


i know what you are, but what am i

by iuwui



Series: This Is A Personal Attack (a written crack compilation) [1]
Category: NCT, NCT Dream
Genre: '04 liners, 3RACHA, A Few Swear Words But Honestly Cursing Is The Least Of Our Problems, Angst Is Not A Thing, Bad Driving, Boba, Crack, Didn’t Proofread We Dies Like Men, Donghyuck Whipped, Everyone Is Gay, Eye, Harry Potter movie marathon, High School AU, I Have Spent Too Much Time On This, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan & Mark Lee Are Best Friends, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan is Whipped, Like Really Bad Driving, M/M, Mark Clueless, Mark Has A Brain That Is Not Functioning, Mark Lee (NCT) is a Panicked Gay, Mark Lee (NCT)-centric, Mentioned LOONA Ensemble, Mentioned Stray Kids Ensemble, Never Mind It Is Not Working, No One Should Ever Let Me Tag At One AM, Okay That Is Enough Tags For Now, Panicked Gayyyy, Rich Suh Youngho | Johnny, Same Here Mark, THIS DRIVING IS, TikTok, Tooth Rotting Fluff, WAIT WHY IS FIGHTING KINK A TAG I JUST WANNA TALK, Wait I Will Type Things In And Have AO3 Suggest Tags, Wow Big Brain, You Do Not Comprehend How Shitty, Yuta is W H I P P E D, also sm artists just pop up left and right because i'm a hoe for sm, and a got7 crack compilation, are you still reading the tags, ayo i'm tagging again because i finally updated, because I’m like that, big brain - Freeform, but i’m gonna come back and fix mistakes, dnyl club, don’t clown me for mistakes, fireboy and watergirl - Freeform, hi, hyuck can’t bake, i know it's a problem, i like to believe johnny listens to twice, no cap this entire thing is crack, nobidy can stop me my, obviously bts exists, pkay go read, power of sleep deprivation too strong, say yeehaw in the comments if you see this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:15:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22326199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iuwui/pseuds/iuwui
Summary: So, Mark Lee. He’s socially inept, kinda clueless, about this far *fingers touch* from having a mid-life crisis, and has a full time job dealing with his dumbass older brother, Johnny, and Johnny’s best friend, Yuta. Who’s also whipped for WinWin, whoever that is.Donghyuck, or “Haechan” as the online community knows him, is Worldwide Famous. And constantly gets compared to Jimin from BTS, when he does not look like Jimin.Their group of friends ship them, Mark gets food poisoning, some amount of texting is involved. Pastor Taeyong is hot. Johnny is the sibling we wish we had.TLDR; loads of crack and tooth rotting fluff to a backtrack of only TikTok songs---Mark sighed and opened the app, scrolling around. Suddenly, he was struck with the idea of checking the popular trends of the app. One tag, #imyourtype, intrigued him. This being Mark, of course the single worst thing piqued his interest. It followed the same outline, “If You Like Guys/Girls Who Are…”, list of things, and then the aforementioned qualities showed off as they popped up to end the video.And Mark suddenly understood Yuta’s obsession with random internet boys. Because goddamn, were some of those people attractive.
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Even More Minor or Background Relationships, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee, Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Nakamoto Yuta & TikTok Boi, Park Jisung/Zhong Chen Le
Series: This Is A Personal Attack (a written crack compilation) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1754980
Comments: 65
Kudos: 143





	1. Day 0, or When Downloading an App Causes a Chain! dun dun nu dun Reaction

**Author's Note:**

> on god my music taste was awful ignore the music recommendations go pull up whatever songs you feel have teenage vibes and go crazy go stupid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 06/09/2020- waiting for WayV comeback. Guys, I am so sorry you ever clicked on this.

“What… what the fuc-heck?” Mark asked, staring intently at his phone as Donghyuck sent yet another link to a _TikTok_ , whatever the hell that was.

He had clicked on the first one, which had directed him to a webpage, and after a minute of stabbing at his phone screen, there was a person wearing sunglasses with their hoodie all scrunched up, and a video.

Said video started off with, “Fun Ways To Tell Your Kids Your Dog Died”

First off, “Our dog passed away last night”

Then, “Billy, he finally croaked”

The music sped up: “Our pal commited deleten’don’t”

And, as the music played at an ungodly rate of quick: “DINNERTIME”

Donghyuck had then sent a series of laughing emojis, to which Jeno replied “LMFAOOOO” and Jaemin hearted, and Renjun and Jisung left on read. Chenle joined the chat, sending his own links, but when Mark clicked on that, it left him on a “TikTok” tab.

He was.

So confused.

He headed downstairs, where Johnny was, sprawled across the couch while watching a fried chicken commercial. Yuta, Johnny’s best friend who basically lived at their house, was staring at his phone with an almost manic intensity.

“JOHNNY.”

Without flinching, his brother looked up. “What, dickwad?”

“What’s a _TikTok_?”

Yuta grinned. “It’s the future, Mark.” He shoved his phone into Mark’s face, where a loop of a boy on stage danced to Billie Eilish’s “lovely”. The boy in question was blurry, but that could’ve been the fact that Mark wasn’t wearing his glasses, and the fact that Yuta had basically caused Mark to inhale his phone. 

_R.I.P. Mark Lee: Death from phone asphyxiation._

“Yuta, not everyone is obsessed with that dancing Chinese boy. He’s cute, he’s talented, he doesn’t know you exist. Get over yourself.” 

“Johnny, don’t even insult WinWin like that- he is GOD okay he is my new religion he’s just- I- I love him more than life itself.”

“Isn’t that what you said about that Takada boy last week?”

“I cAn’T hEaR yOu.”

Mark, who had been quietly watching the exchange, yelled, “But what IS TikTok?!”

“People make videos about themselves, usually to music, to flex or perform and basically try and become famous.” Johnny replied, scoffing. “Try-hards. Only Vine.”

“Great, thanks,” Mark said, backing out of the room as Yuta tapped to another video.

“Do you see this, Johnny? This boy has three MILLION likes on this one.”

“So three million other people you need to compete with.”

“ShuT UP!” Yuta screeched, flicking a peanut at Johnny.

That was Mark’s cue to leave.

He sprinted to his room, taking the steps three at a time, before sliding and narrowly avoiding the doorframe. He downloaded the app, almost dropping his phone, before watching it load and finally pop up.

“Oh boy,” he breathed out, clicking on the app. Then he watched an ad for the Old Navy holiday sales. The first thing that popped up was a “For You” page, where some dude was throwing cheese at people. He scrolled past that, found some videos of girls dancing that he QUICKLY skipped, and then landed on something that read, “Hottest Guys On This App”.

He went down to the search button, and typed in “Haechan”, where an account that he thought was Donghyuck’s popped up.

And, well, was Mark in for a surprise.

Donghyuck was apparently TikTok famous, with 179.1k followers and 3.1M likes. What did he even do on his weekends?

He clicked on one with fifty thousand views, which took some time to load. 

The camera was zoomed out, before zooming in and focusing on Donghyuck, who climbed onto his bathroom sink and sang 10,000 Hours. The comments were filled with “OMG SO TALENTED” and “He’s SO cuTE!” and “Doesn’t he kind of look like Jimin?” and “STOP COMPARING ALL ASIAN BOYS TO BTS MEMBERS”. Mark tried to press the heart, where a white tab popped up.

“You need an account to continue?” Mark wondered aloud.

Well, it wasn’t like he had anything better to do.

He set up his account, and waited for the verification code, and then returned to the video and liked it. It was actually really interesting, seeing how people reacted to him. What he viewed as annoying and clingy, others thought was endearing and quirky.

Others were wrong, obviously, but still.

Then he moved on to whatever video had blown up. It was a green screen of “Me and the Boys Glow-Ups”. It started with Renjun (the smart one), with his snaggletooth, before showing a photo of him being illuminated by the sunset. Mark remembered that time, the picnic at the top of the hill and chucking bread up into the sky for the birds. Then it moved on to Jaemin (the hot one) with an awkward peace sign and a backwards hat, and then his newest one, with light pink hair and a half-smirk. Mark had not been in that one. Because, you know, he wasn’t a creep that hung out in other people’s bathrooms. Jeno (the athletic one) with his toddler photo, and then a mirror selfie of him flexing his bicep. Mark swore he felt his legs twinge slightly- clearly, they hadn’t gotten over gym day, either. Chenle (the loud one) wearing a bunny hat, before cutting to a picture of him busking, complete with the eyeliner. Jisung (the shy one) started with a photo of him wearing a bright pink polo shirt and a pained expression, before showing a photo of him with his round glasses and wearing all Adidas. #spon. Mark (the dumb one) which he registered with a “hey, that’s me!” before letting out a small screech at the horrible “before” photo Donghyuck had chosen. Seriously, where did he even get a photo of tweenager Mark with that stupid Justin Bieber haircut? The glowup photo was better, one where Mark actually thought he looked good. It ended with “Me” (Haechan, the cute one) an adorable baby photo with lime green frosting all over his face, and then an “after” photo of him eye-raping the camera. Because of course. It ended with a picture of the seven of them, and the words “Choose Your Fav”. 

The comments were filled with things like “Jaemin can like, get it” and “omg drop their @” and Mark’s personal favorite: “Are we not gonna talk about Renjun because he’s fucking gorgeous”. 

Mark liked one comment that simply stated, “MORK”. He checked the hearts, and did a double take. 1.4M? Donghyuck got most of his likes from their group? 

As he struggled his way through sending the video to the group chat- did he click on the link to copy it? The little paper airplane? How did SMS messaging work? Lord knew -he kept getting distracted by Donghyuck.

Which made less sense than the app itself.

When he finally managed to send the video, nobody responded.

Because of course.

Resigning himself to a life of forever being alone, he shut off his phone and pulled out his ukulele. Strumming the opening chords to Riptide- yes, he knows he’s basic, lay off -he started softly singing, cringing as his voice cracked.

“ _I was scared of pretty boys-”_

He stopped. “Girls, girls, girls. Stop screwing up the words, Mark.”

Mark hummed a bit, before starting over. 

_“I was scared of pretty b-girls and starting conversations._ ”

He stopped entirely, still unsure why he was singing _boys_ instead of _girls_.

What a wonderful world.

“ _Ooh-ooh-ooh…_ ”

*intense concentration as he tried to play the F major chord*

“ _And they come unstuck.”_

He kept playing, slowly growing more confident, finally belting the second refrain of the chorus.

“ _I love you when you’re singing that song, and I got a lump in my throat, ‘cause you’re gonna sing the words wrong.”_

Distant hollering from Johnny told him to stop playing, and he reluctantly returned his ukulele to its corner in the closet, where it would remain for another few months, gathering dust.

His phone buzzed, and he pounced, quickly unlocking it to see that Jaemin was appalled at the audacity of Donghyuck to not tag him as Jeno’s boyfriend.

o-o

Mark sighed and opened the app, scrolling around. Suddenly, he was struck with the idea of checking the popular trends of the app. One tag, #imyourtype, intrigued him. This being Mark, of course the single worst thing piqued his interest. It followed the same outline, “If You Like Guys/Girls Who Are…”, list of things, and then the aforementioned qualities showed off as they popped up to end the video.

And Mark suddenly understood Yuta’s obsession with random internet boys. Because _golly gee damn_ , were some of those people attractive.

Today was looking to a day of continuous bad decisions, and it wasn’t like he had anYtHinG bETTeR tO dO.

**If you like guys who...**

Are socially awkward

Play multiple instruments

Perfect Asian Boy

Bye-lingual

Can’t draw or paint or keep plants alive

Rap

Like boba and hugs

Half-blind

The dumb one in a friend group

Will give you his hoodies

Respects you

Probably lived halfway across the country

You Know I’m Your Type, Right?

Then he hashtagged it with “for you page”, and posted it.

Mark left his phone in his room, and went into the living room, where he watched the second season of BNHA with Johnny and Yuta. Soon it was dark, Johnny and Yuta were fighting over what kind of pizza they should order, and Mark watched from the couch, eating his bowl of Cheerios.

That shit was better than any K-drama he could’ve streamed.

+++

“Oh my god,” Yuta said, letting out a small groan. “I think I’m gonna explode.”

“I’m not talking to you,” Mark replied, still miffed.

Johnny laughed and kicked at Mark, who tried dodging his foot and ended up getting jabbed in the side. “Come on, Marky. He only laughed at you while you were choking on a slice of pepperoni.”

“But did you see that?! I could’ve died!”

*inserts that one vine* 

“But ya _didn’t_.”

“Why do I even bother hanging out with you two?” Mark asked, hugging himself.

Yuta stuck out his tongue. “Because you have no other friends.”

Mark let his head drop over the side of the couch. “Is there anyone you guys bully more than me?”

Johnny and Yuta looked at each other, and in unison, said, “Doyoung.”

“So, is Yuta staying over?”

“Thanks for asking, Mark! Yuta is indeed staying over, and Yuta may or may not draw on your face in permanent marker as you sleep!”

“Aight, imma head out.”

“But we were gonna put Winwin on the Apple TV!” Yuta protested, pouting.

“Oh, hell no,” Johnny said, already grabbing the remote. “I already watched three hours of your Boku No Hero Nahcademia.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to watch three hours of girl group music videos.”

“Of course not! We’re watching three hours of K-Pop crack compilations.”

“nnnnOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-” Yuta screeched, trying to reach for the remote before Johnny grabbed it. Alas, he was too late. Johnny already had it on, playing the intro to a Got7 crack compilation.

“Stop being so tall!”

“Stop being so short!”

“Stop being an asshole!”

“Stop being an idiot!”

Mark blinked.

“...You two need hobbies.”

Jinyoung's laugh blared from the speakers as Johnny gave him the death stare.

Mark slowly shifted from his position on the couch, wondering how fast he could maneuver his way out from the tangle of limbs and sprint upstairs.

“So, Mark,” Yuta gasped out, punching Johnny’s arm. “Do you think we’re gay for each other?”

“I plead the fifth.”

“Bruh,” Johnny said.

“But I’ll give you two some privacy, seeing as Yuta just confessed his undying love. Bye!”

As he headed up the stairs, taking them two at a time, he heard Yuta wonder aloud. 

“Since when has Mark been such a savage?”

He closed the door before he can hear Johnny’s answer.

+++

Mark should be asleep. However, he isn’t. In less than two hours, he had become a TikTok addict.

It’s probably a new record.

Somebody knocked at the door, and Mark called out blearily, “Come in.”

Yuta poked his head in and giddily clasped his hands. “Perfect!”

“Perfect for what?” Mark asked, already wary of him.

“Perfect for a Makeover, with a capital M.”

Mark got up, only to shove Yuta out and lock the door. “GOOD NIGHT.”

He headed back to his bed, but before he had even fully gotten under the covers, the door clicked open.

Yuta poked his head in. “Come onnnn, Mark.”

“Haven’t you tortured me enough?”

He remembered incidents of the past- bleaching his hair, and curling his hair, and making him wear everything from all black leather to baby pink three-piece suits. Makeup, jewelry, hair pieces, shoes, hats and gloves and whatever other hand-me-downs those two scavenged. He had been coddled, made up, dressed down, made fun of, whacked at, and cackled at more times any self-respecting straight male should be. And he doesn’t even fit the first two categories. 

“I refuse to do this.” Mark protested, squeaking a little as Yuta softly combed through his hair with his fingers.

“One time, Mark. Pinky promise I won’t make you look stupid.”

“Highly doubt that.”

As Yuta dragged him into Johnny’s bathroom, he saw tools piled around it. Makeup and hair products and something that looked suspiciously like a homemade piercing gadget were strewn around the room, most of them piled onto Johnny’s vanity (with three mirrors!).

“First, a sheet mask. Get your ratchet ass skin in shape, you’re going to church tomorrow.”

Yuta literally slapped Mark in the face with the pearl mask, and Johnny looked on, bored. “Another 20 minutes of waiting?”

“Shut up. We’re finishing that episode of Demon Slayer, anyways.”

“Wait, what’s Demon Slayer?”

“BROOOOOOOOOOOOOO-”

“-ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-”

“-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-”

“-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.”

“This is why I think you’re gay for each other!” Mark shrieked.

“Bitch, what?” Johnny asked. “Okay, start from episode one- I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Love you too, bro,” Mark sighed.

“John, be a dear and tell Mark to stop t _alking_ , because it’s m _oving_ his fa _ce mask_.” Yuta hissed through gritted teeth.

“Mark, stop moving.”

“Fuck you.”

“See, Marky, I’m flattered, but also, no. Save your virginity for Donghyuck.”

“I am not going to respond to that because of how messed up it is on so many levels-”

“-no, honey, it really isn’t. Johnny-o, hand me the straightener, would’ya?”

Mark slowly exhaled as the very hot object made its way towards his head, and only flinched a little bit when Yuta started straightening his hair. That was what they called a win.

Johnny’s phone propped up in the background was playing a scene in the winter, and we all take a moment to break the fourth wall and appreciate the animators of Demon Slayer.

“So, Mark, we’re taking you to Johnny’s Fashion Evaluation, where it is two in the morning right now and we’re debating what to put you in. I personally like a suit look with gelled hair, but as the barber has gone and done you dirty again, we’re going to go with a bit of a loose hair and straighten it to give it as much length as possible. I think… this is the week of boyfriend material. Enough with your half-wrinkled musty ass polo shirts and khakis, you’re going in wearing a sweatshirt.”

“But-!”

“Technically, the church doesn’t have any dress codes. And mom and dad are out of town.”

“Please don’t make me regret this.”

“Mark, the second you crossed the threshold into the bathroom, you were dead meat.” Johnny remarked, filing his nails.

“Just be glad I didn’t let Johnny buy that neon yellow lipstick.” 

Mark shut up and let them work their magic. Before long, Yuta unplugged the straightener.

“We’ll just put some leave-in product to make the hair perfect-” he said, leaning into Mark’s ear and exhaling heavily. Now, let’s get this straight. Er, gay. Mark was 127% not interested in Yuta. First off, he was three, nearly four years older, and constantly in a state of whipped for someone else. That was just Yuta culture. However, he was a tease. A hot tease. And, okay, maybe there were some unresolved feelings from the crush Mark developed at the age of thirteen.

Moving on.

So, imagine yourself at thirteen, and your biggest crush decided to seduce you in a bathroom. 

WAIT, SHIT, NOT LIKE THAT.

Mark was really just digging himself deeper into a hole. He let out a strangled gasp and nearly fell off his chair.

Yuta laughed in surprise and unscrewed one of the many products on the counter. 

“Calm down, Mark,” Johnny said, rolling his eyes.

“I’m calm.”

As Yuta took the product and twisted strands of Mark’s hair around his finger, Mark pointed out the fact that his hair was naturally curly.

“Your natural curls are also mixed in with straight strands and random pieces of hair. That is not cute, or hot, or anywhere in the attractive spectrum. It makes you look like an unkempt poodle mix. Better to fry your hair and start again.”

“Are you still planning on attending beauty school?” Mark asked.

“Pfft, no. We’re doing something a little more substantial, something that can get me money in the future, because Mama Nakamoto said so. Ah, the wonders of Computer Engineering.”

“By the way, before you ask, he totally hates computer engineering.” Johnny added.

“No one asked, Jonathan.”

“Aish. When will you call me my real name?”

“ _Never_.”

“You know, you’re a real pain in the ass sometimes.”

“I could say the same.”

“You don’t have an ass.”

“If I weren’t doing your little brother’s hair, I would’ve killed you by now.”

Johnny was probably about to reply with another snippy remark, but the ringing of his phone distracted him. “Shut up, both of you. It’s Ten.”

Mark let out a quiet, “Oooh,” before quickly shutting up as Johnny put on the fakest voice ever heard to man.

“Hey, Tenny.”

Yuta did an eyebrow raise at that, and Johnny glared and slashed his hand across his throat.

“Uh huh, yeah babe. You coming to church today?”

Mark snorted- _since when did Ten show any interest in religion?_ -before Johnny smiled.

“Seriously?” Yuta hissed.

“wHiPpED…” Mark whispered.

“Sure, we can go.”

“Ew, domestic. Hey, Tenny-san, do you have a wedding date yet?”

Johnny shoved Yuta, knocking him into the other counter. “Square up!” Yuta yelled, waving a single fist wildly in the air.

“I’m really sorry for these dumbasses, Ten.” Johnny moved across the room, slapping Yuta’s mouth shut up and continuing to hold onto the phone with the other.

“Hey!” Mark exclaimed, greatly offended. “Dumbass, singular. Yuta’s the stupid one, I’m not even here of my own free will!”

“Sorry, the dumbass and the brat. Do you have any movies you want to see?”

Mark pantomimed gagging.

“M’kay, bye. Love you too.”

As soon as the phone was safely shut off, Johnny wheeled on them. “Do that again, and I break your kneecaps.”

Yuta drew himself up to his full height (still shorter than Johnny by a good five centimeters) and hissed, “Try me, bitch.”

Johnny looked down. Then dismissively waved his hand, before yawning. “I’m going to sleep. It’s two already, and church is at ten.”

“I’m also going to sleep,” Mark said, getting out of the chair and stretching. “See you guys soon.”

The two of them headed out of the bathroom, leaving a pissed off Yuta fuming in the background. 

Yay, friendship!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it gets worse


	2. Day 1, Where Tea is Spilled and Shitty Driving Appears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 06/09/2020- I really went and predicted YuMark, huh?

Mark woke up to an alarm blaring “Single Ladies”. He fumbled for his glasses, knocked his phone off the table, and turned to his left to see Yuta grunt, before turning over.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?!” He shrieked, whapping Yuta with his pillow.

Yuta groaned and rolled off the bed. Taking all of the blankets with him, too.

“What, dude?”

“Why are you in my bed?”

“What are you doing in _my_ bed?”

“What are both of you doing in my bed?” Johnny asked from the floor.

Cue the screaming.

After carefully making his way out of bed (because, you know, if he touched Yuta, they were legally obligated to fuck), Mark headed into the bathroom. The bright lights and spotless mirrors only accented his eye bags (Thanks, Johnny!) and that stupid pimple on his forehead that had seemingly sprouted overnight. Fucking mint. Also, his mouth tasted like something had died in it.

But hey, his hair looked hot!

He brushed his teeth and washed his face, and squinted some more at his trash face, before opening up the drawers and “borrowing” some of Johnny’s skincare products. 

_It was for a good cause,_ he decided, using his hands to gently tap the toner onto his face. Not the cheap one, either. 

He headed to his room to change, subconsciously facing his row of pastel golf shirts and wrinkled button downs, before remembering the whole TikTok Boyfriend rant.

With an expression of a tortured man, he grabbed the first sweatshirt he could find, which was a grey Utah basketball sweatshirt 

Yuta had gotten it for him as a gift. Not because Mark supported Utah, or anything. Because it was the first option that came up when Yuta searched up Yuta (because he was humble like that) basketball (because Mark liked basketball) sweatshirt (because Yuta was fashion evaluating). Hell, Mark didn’t even know where Utah was. But the sweatshirt was comfortable. And stolen by Donghyuck for about a year before. He hadn’t worn it since then. 

He tossed the sweatshirt over his pajamas and pulled on a pair of blue jeans.

When he finally got downstairs, Yuta and Johnny were dumping their plates in the sink. Doing dishes was a last resort in their household. Mark made his way to the espresso machine, then grabbed Johnny’s cup and drank that instead. The pizza box was neatly folded and next to the trash can. Johnny handed him a slice of milk bread without a word.

What a load of Neanderthals they are.

+++

The car pulled into the parking lot, going over a rather large crack and causing Mark’s head to hit the top of the roof.

“Ow,” he muttered apathetically.

“Come on, we’re gonna be late!”

Johnny parked haphazardly and turned off the engine, before sprinting towards the church entrance, Yuta right behind him.

Mark hurriedly locked the door and remembered suddenly, far too late, his AirPods were in the side pocket of the car.

“Oh, cOME ON!” He hollered, before giving up and running to the entrance. He awkwardly half-bowed at the man holding open his door. When he stepped into the church he tried to lessen his aggressive nostril flaring, before quietly walking down to the English Ministry. The door was closed, and he could faintly hear worship music being played in the background. He took a deep breath, and the door opened with a loud creak, thankfully drowned out by the sound of hundreds of people singing Hillsong.

Jeno was running the soundboard, and Renjun was up on stage, singing. His eyes roamed around the room, where he spotted a free seat next to Donghyuck. 

He slipped into the aisle with a lot of apologizing and sat down as the song ended.

“Glad you finally decided to grace us with your presence,” Donghyuck whispered.

Mark frantically gestured to the praying leader. Hyuck rolled his eyes. It was quite well known that Donghyuck was the biggest atheist known to the church, and Mark was _AGGRESSIVE JESUS WORSHIPER_. 

The sad part was that it was only kind of a joke.

Mark closed his eyes and tried to listen to the prayer, where the smooth voice of Taemin prayed for health and well-being and for their sick brothers and sisters and the nonbelievers and the weather and just about everything on the face of the beautiful earth God created.

After a solid five minutes, where even Mark was having trouble concentrating, he heard the congregation say “Amen”. His eyes shot open, and on his right side, Hyuck was fidgeting with phone, quietly tapping the case with a tired expression on his face.

“Now, brothers and sisters,” Taemin said, smile wide across his face, “announcements of the week! Bible Discussion Groups are meeting again, the Youth Group is going to have another volunteer Saturday in two weeks. Oh, and of course, get your donations in for the tax returns! Next slide, please!”

The slide shifted, and Taemin continued cheerily reading the slides. “And next week’s usher team is going to be Seulgi, Joy, and Wendy, before they return to school!”

The pastor walked up to the stage. Pastor Lee was a new addition to the church, barely three months into the job. Of course, his good looks ended up with less-than-holy things being said about him, but he brushed it off and always preached with a passion that could make even the Very Greatest Annoying Person with the Smallest Attention Span (See also: Donghyuck) heed his words.

“Today, we’re going to continue to look into the book of Acts. Last time, we left off with the believers, and today, we’ll talk about Paul. Paul of Damascus was originally known as Saul, and not only was he a staunt Jewish leader, he also persecuted all other Christians. Now, I know we probably all know the story of Paul, and how he repented. I won’t bore us by talking about the old story. Instead, we’re talking about the belief. And the change. In the case of Paul, he was a firm unbeliever. He listened. When he rebelled, and changed, breaking away from the mold once he heard the word of God, he changed. So the first point is _how_ God can change others…”

Mark continued listening, drawn into the sermon from Pastor T. This was intriguing.

Halfway through the preaching, Mark realized that someone was staring at him. 

He slowly turned his head to the right, and made direct eye contact with Donghyuck.

“Took you long enough, I’ve been staring at you for the past ten minutes.”

“Oh, shut up.”

When the pastor finally finished, Mark resisted the urge to clap, and watched as the worship team rose once more to the stage to sing the final closing song.

_Good, Good Father._

Mark wasn’t a singer, but he sang along during worship. Hyuck would also sing, usually harmonizing to a.) flex on talentless whores like Mark and b.) because he thought that worship music spoke more to him than the sermon could ever. As he started singing at the top of his lungs, he could hear Donghyuck harmonizing with “You are perfect in all of Your ways.”

The songs ended, and some people stayed behind to pray in the silence. Donghyuck was one of the first to stand up, and he grabbed Mark’s wrist, before quietly making his way out of the aisle.

The community room was where everyone went to socialize after service. Off the side was a smaller room, usually used on Wednesday for Bible Study, but otherwise abandoned. The windows always had a slight layer of dust. It made Mark sneeze.

Usually, their little group would hang out in there after service, and today was no different. Jeno, Jaemin, and Renjun took up the couch, Chenle sat on floor, leaning against Jisung’s legs.

“Do y’all wanna get boba?”

Mark’s head jerked up slightly. It was Donghyuck, already settled casually on the old lady-print sofa, squishing in on the edge and crushing Renjun. 

“Get off, you fat lump-” Renjun complained, pushing him off.

Donghyuck laughed and shifted, and Jaemin moved to accommodate him. Mark sat down on an armchair. Hyuck pulled out his phone, resting his head on top of Renjun’s head. Of course he could make the very act of sitting and scrolling through his phone seem like an art.

Meanwhile, Mark most likely looked depressed. 

A beat passed, semi-awkwardly. Tinny audio continued pouring out of Donghyuck’s phone.

Jaemin and Jeno looked at each other like they were the others’ entire world. 

“Guys. Boba.”

“Is anyone else going?”

“I’d go, but I have a concert,” Renjun said. “Then I need to turn in the last round of my university applications.” Over scheduled, per usual.

“I don’t really want boba.” Jeno added. “Besides, Jaemin and I are going to study.”

Mark internally rolled his eyes at that one. Studying = making out, at least for those two.

“Chenle and I are going to watch a movie with some hyungs.”

“Excuse me, who? What kind of hooligans do you run around with in your free time?” Jaemin demanded, going full Mother Goose on them.

“What kind of hooligan are you, hyung?” Chenle retorted.

One word.

Chaos.

“Repeat that again!”

Chenle stood up and hid behind Jisung.

“You’re a hOOLIGAN.”

“This is what I get for raising you?!” Jaemin screamed.

“You’re a year older than me!”

Jaemin barreled toward Chenle, who let out one of his famous dolphin screeches that Mark thought he wouldn’t hear after Chenle had gone through p*berty.

Renjun whacked his head. Jeno gave him a hug, then backed off when he was rewarded with a stink eye of the year. Jaemin tackled Chenle. Donghyuck continued scrolling.

Mark watched and wondered why he, as the oldest, was still hanging out with them.

 _Did he want to go for boba?_ Well, it wasn’t like he had homework, a test coming up, and ten different things he could do other than paying a small fortune for iced tea with tapioca. He shifted, than stood up and sat next Donghyuck on the couch.

“I guess I’ll go.”

He ignored the the other five exchanged. Jaemin temporarily stopped trying to cut off Chenle’s air circulation.

“Great, because you’re driving.”

“What?”

“Unless you want my mom to drive us.”

Mark sucked in a breath. If Hyuck was the scariest person around his age, his mother was the most terrifying auntie known to Mark-kind. Even Johnny agreed that Auntie Lee was on another level.

“Fine.”

“Are you guys staying for classes afterwards?” Mark asked.

The church had enough members to provide their own classes, from Korean lessons to calligraphy work to dance to playing folk instruments to How-To-Ace-That-One-Exam.

“Actually, I need to go.” Renjun rose from his seat. “Wish me luck.”

Amid a chorus of “Good luck!” and “You’re going to do amazing,” and a “Break a leg. Break an arm. Break all your limbs and then the audience’s eardrums,” Renjun left the room.

Jaehyun poked his head in. “Hey, guys. Nana, we gotta go.”

“I’m going with Jeno.” Jaemin responded with a pout.

Jaehyun sighed. “Nana, we’ve gone over this. You’re going with Jeno.

When.

Hell.

Freezes.

Over.”

“Ouch. Bye, Nojam.” Jaemin squeezed Jeno’s hand and grabbed his bag. Jaehyun flicked him in the forehead. Jaemin yelped and kicked him. The two of them left, probably going to join their ungodly attractive family and break the hearts of all the people in the twelve mile radius.

Jeno turned to Donghyuck. “I would go with you, but I’m sure you don’t want me to impose of your little excursion. Besides, I need to write.”

“Ah, yes your fanfiction. Have one of the gays anime wall slam the other one before a R-rated scene.”

“Yeah, where he chops your dick off.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of sucking.”

Jeno’s face twisted. “Don’t push your sick fantasies on me.”

“Don’t you mean _dick_ fantasies?”

Simply listening in on the conversation was making Mark flustered. The words they were uttering! Pastor Taeyong would be appalled.

“I hate you.”

“No, you love me.”

“No, Mark loves you. Bye.”

Before Mark could register what Jeno had said, he was gone.

Chenle was sitting next to Jisung, both with the most ridiculous puppy-dog obsessed looks on their faces.

“Bleh, look at the sappy looks on their faces.” Donghyuck mocked.

“Speak for yourself, hyung,” Jisung said. Chenle laughed so hard he fell into Jisung.

“We’ll leave, I’m telling you,” Donghyuck replied.

“Come on, then.”

That was the first time Hyuck had looked surprised at something Mark had said, which gave him a sense of satisfaction that he never knew he could get.

“You said boba, we’re getting boba.”

“Bye, you two. Don’t do anything the Lord would be displeased with!” Chenle sang.

Mark choked slightly in the back of his throat.

+++

It was in the car when he spoke up again. Having stolen the keys from Johnny, it was almost one o’clock.

“Have you seen Haikyuu yet?”

“Don’t have premium, and I haven’t finished Season Two yet.”

“B r u h.”

“Well, what about you and TikTok?”

“I started an account, thank you very mu-UCH!” Mark swerved and honked as the guy on his left cut them off.

“WhaT THE FUCK?!” Donghyuck hollered.

“Don’t swear, dumbass!”

“Fine.”

“We’re okay, we’re okay.”

Mark continued driving, fingers gripping the wheel a little more tightly than before.

Donghyuck pulled out his phone with about as much subtlety as Johnny when he had a surprise. Which was to say, not at all.

“If you’re going to ruin your eyes, you don’t need to be discreet about it. I’m not your mom.”

“You want to take care of me, though.”

Mark paused. Paused. Paused some more.

“noPE.”

“Ouch. That hurted. ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´Д｀ﾟ)ﾟ｡”

“How did you just verbalize that?”

“Sold my soul to the Devil.”

“Hyuck, you can’t sell your soul if you never had one to begin with.”

“Mark, you can’t live life if you never had one to begin with.”

He very carefully jabbed Donghyuck in the side, which caused him to fall over into the passenger side seat door.

“We’re here.”

DREAM Boba was the only place in the close proximity of their town. Two towns and a twenty mile drive over. Such were the problems of living in a small ass town. It was pretty average as boba went, but they had a couple of standout drinks on the menu, including a _Watermelon Boba._ That alone was enough to elevate Mark’s respect for the place to Religion Level.

“Well? You coming?” He asked.

“That’s what she said,” Donghyuck responded immediately. It was like a reflex for that boy.

“Oh my god, shut up.”

“Don’t use the Lord’s name in vain, Mark.”

Mark sighed and locked the car behind him. 

To Mark’s surprise, Donghyuck held the door open.

“Go ahead in, princess.”

“Stop.”

“Make me.”

Mark sighed and entered the shop, which smelled of green tea and sugar. He could live without the green tea, but inhaling the sweet tasting air was like stepping into a candy store.

The girl behind the counter had her hair pulled back into a ponytail. Other customers were sitting at tables, and one duo was passing a phone between them and whispering.

“Hello, welcome to DREAM Boba, where our boba is so good it feels like a bad acid trip!”

Donghyuck snorted. “Good job, Irene. Might wanna improvise differently next time.”

“What can I say, Donghyuck, I’m bored. What do y’all want?”

“Um, can I have a medium watermelon boba with the popping pearls? 50% sugar, 25% ice.”

“Hold up, we might be out of popping pearls. OY, HEECHUL. WE STILL GOT POPPING PEARLS?!”

“IT’S YOUR JOB, I’M ON BREAK.”

“Sorry, technical difficulties.” Irene said, flashing a smile. She made her way into the back room and Mark heard muffled screaming.

She returned, still wearing the terrifying smile. “We do have popping pearls! And for you, Donghyuck?”

“I’ll have the lavender boba with large and small pearls, clove honey instead of sugar, more cream, more whip, venti.”

“Sir, this is a McDonald’s drive-through.”

“Honey instead of sugar, 50% ice, pokey straw.”

“Nice choices, nice choices. That’ll be $11.27, with a Bitch Ass Hoe discount, which makes it $9.69.”

“N i c e.” Donghyuck nodded.

“Is your entire graduating class like this?” Mark asked.

“You're in the graduating class, dumbass." Donghyuck shook his head solemnly. "Excuse the boomer, it’s the first time he’s been outside in nearly four years.”

“Donghyuck, kindly shut up.”

Irene peered at Mark. Uncomfortably close. “This one is an elder. Huh, thought he’d be taller.”

“Thaaaaaanks.”

“Anyways, I’ll start making it.”

Irene methodically measured things, scooping powders and pouring tea, finally putting it on the weird shaking thing, before the machine stamped on the plastic lids. Donghyuck handed Mark a straw and Irene handed them their drinks.

“Enjoy!”

Mark covered the top of the straw and stabbed it in slightly off-center. Donghyuck did the same, and took a sip. “Not bad.”

“I heard that!” Irene called.

The two of them sat down, and Hyuck pulled out his phone. “Pictures.”

Mark flashed a peace sign and cringed internally.

Donghyuck had barely put his phone away when the two people who had been whispering earlier approached them.

“Um, are you Haechan?”

“Yeah.”

“Hahaha, omigosh, we’re so lucky to see you! I didn’t know you lived in the area-”

They stopped the conversation to giggle a little more. “Um, but yeah, we really admire you and Heejin has had like the _biggest_ crush on you for the longest time. Also, I’m-”

“Do you want a picture?” Donghyuck interrupted.

The quieter one, Heejin, smiled and nodded. She was pretty, Mark noted. The other girl was borderline annoying. Although it could’ve just been the whole being-in-the-presence-of-a-celebrity.

“Here, gimme your phone.”

Donghyuck held the phone up and hugged Heejin. He flashed a smile, the picture was taken.

“Thank you so much. I’m sorry about Hyunjin, she’s just excited about being let out in public after she accidentally ripped off a man’s wig.”

“How do you-?” Mark started, before deciding that he really didn’t need to know.

“She’s a crackhead.”

“I am not!” Hyunjin protested.

"Yes you are, stop lying."

“Nah, it’s fine. Do you also want a photo?”

“Actually, yes.”

“What are your Instagrams?” Donghyuck asked.

By the time Mark had finished half of his boba, Donghyuck knew their full names, snaps, birthdays, little brother’s name, school, town, future aspirations, and social security numbers. 

“Haha, it was really nice meeting you too!” Donghyuck finally said.

The girls waved and left. Donghyuck slumped down on his seat.

“You good?”

“They were great. Amazing. Ten out of Johnny’s Boyfriend. Tired. Drained. Death.”

“You could… like, sleep?”

“Sleep is for the weak.”

Mark’s phone buzzed.

“Wait, sorry.” He opened it, only to see an AirDrop from Donghyuck.

He snorted.

“Where do you even get these photos?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy.”

“sTOp iT-”

  
“I thought you didn’t like BTS?”

Hyuck looked up. “Eh? No, I love BTS. Seokjin-oppar will marry me and take me far away from this place.”

“You’re a psycho.”

“When will you run out memes?”

“I have about two thousand saved on my phone, and another five thousand backed up in Google Photos.”

“Eye-”  


At this point, Mark was on the verge of tears. “Please, stop.”

“One more photo.”

That was what pushed it over the edge. Mark lost it, completely. His laugh turned into a wheeze and he bent over, unable to breathe. 

“ _Let me_ -”

Donghyuck started laughing, too, to the point where both of them had stopped functioning.

Mark hit his head on the back of his seat, which made him laugh harder, and right when he truly thought he was going to die, he regained enough control to wheeze. He managed a short “I _hate_ you.”

“Aw, I lob you too.”

“Why do you do this with your free time, I just-”

“Wait a second. You have TikTok?” Donghyuck asked, holding up his phone.

“I mean, I was trying to tell you that.”

“When did you download it?”

“Uh. Yesterday.”

“Mark, your account exploded.”

“I don’t have any bombs! I don’t know what Johnny’s doing in the basement! There definitely wasn’t an explosion-”

“Mark.”

“What?”

“Your account got _popular_.”

“Oh.”

Mark blinked.

“wAIT, WHAT?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two down, four more to go
> 
> i laughed so hard writing this chapter
> 
> also please appreciate how hard these memes were to get into this website it didn't save the ones i copied into google docs so i had to individually find them and that's why some jin memes were lost in the kunfusion i'm also sad about it man
> 
> whatcha gonna do whatcha gonna do
> 
> Okay, me from the future has realized I used "hyung" here, at least for Chenle and Jisung. The best thing I can think of on the spot (because this is pretty much set in America oops) is that they use the title mockingly. tHiS iS sO sAd aLexA pLaY dEsPaCitO.


	3. Day 2: No Shitty Driving, Surprisingly. Thanks, Renjun!

+++

Monday.

Mondays sucked ass.

Really. Really sucked ass.

Mark would create a petition to cancel Monday, but then everyone would just hate Tuesday as much as Monday, and Mark cares about Tuesday’s feelings.

As Mark had a reality check, the clock started beeping, shrill and long and sustained.

He slapped the alarm shut, whacking it an extra couple of times for good measure.

He wanted nothing more than to turn over and fall back asleep, but Johnny wouldn’t drive him if he missed the bus. And Mark’s a scared driver, so fighting his way through traffic and maniacal teenagers isn’t his cup of tea on a bright and early day.

Or ever, really.

He rolled over and closed his eyes. For a second. When he opened them again, he groaned. Debating whether to call someone or just try to make the bus, he stuck his head under his pillow and wondered how long it would take him to suffocate himself. He looked at the clock and jolted. 6:21. The bus came at 6:27.

“Why me?!” He cursed, throwing his covers off. 

Mark picked clothes at random from the communal laundry basket. Somehow, his extremely responsible mother who still sometimes did their laundry thought it was totally fine to wash his and Johnny’s clothes during the same cycle to conserve energy. Which he totally understood, but seriously? The amount of times he’s accidentally put on Johnny’s pants? Not funny. 

He brushed his teeth and, sprinting to the doorway, he remembered he forgot his textbook in his room. “nO-!” Mark screamed, when he heard the bus pulling away.

He heard a muffled _Shut up_ from Johnny's bedroom, and he sighed.

School started at 7:40, which meant he had some time- whether to try and desperately get a ride from somebody, or mentally brace himself for driving.

He’s a coward. Texting Renjun while packing his stupid textbook into his bag, he realized that he actually had time for once to eat.

Imagine that.

Then his phone pinged again.

 **Renjun (scary):** Also, I have honors choir, be outside and waiting in ten minutes.

Strike that, no food.

Seven minutes later, Renjun’s little car pulled in front of the house.

“Wow, I forgot people could be punctual.”

Mark let out a self-deprecating laugh. “Yeah, dude- bro- uh, Renjun.”

“Mmhmm.” Renjun nodded and kept his eyes on the road.

“So, what are you doing in honor’s choir?”

“‘A Choired Taste’?” Renjun asked.

Mark snorted. “Yeah.”

“Ugh, only you and the choir director would find that any funny.” Renjun shook his head. “We’re just singing. Then I gotta go drop by with the middle schoolers, they’re going to the MathCounts competition in March. I signed up for a study hall period one because I really thought I’d be able to sleep in.”

Mark shuddered, remembering his short-lived career in MathCounts. The Kumon director- Mr. Wang? Mr. Nguyen? some-generic-ass-Asian-name -had suggested it after he had completed his workbook with record speed, and sixth grade became the year that would forever live in infamy. Mark was smart. But he froze up every time they did standardized testing, when they’d be split up into groups and given sheets to finish as quickly as possible, with thirty minutes on the clock. Group projects were okay, and his “favorite” (read: least stressful) part were the workbook pages given to them to complete before the next weeks’ meeting. He made it to the competition, and then he froze. He asked if zero was a prime number, and spent the rest of the competition being mocked by his teammates and opponents alike. He landed forty-sixth out of the fifty-four people representing 12 different schools.

“Mark.”

Mark startled. “Yea-huh?”

“Mark, I know. I was on the team.”

Mark had the dawning realization that he had just said all of that out loud. He leaned forward, letting his head hit the dashboard. The dull thunk that followed was the epitome of self-pity.

“You’re fine. Just don’t smudge anything.”

The view out the window was mighty appealing, as it was. The high school combined two towns and was in the larger town, which meant that the driving route took anywhere from thirty to forty-five minutes, depending on the morning traffic.

As today was Monday, traffic was little to none, as the population of Middle-Of-Nowhere overslept and hit their snooze buttons, unwilling to wake up and acknowledge the “beautiful” day ahead of them. Mark had never been particularly close with Renjun. The rest of their friend group had lived in the tiny town as long as they could remember, while Renjun had moved in the middle of fifth grade, thanks to a relocation done by his father’s company in a hurry to move straight across the continent into the arms of a technology boom. And a ridiculous Asian population. At first, Renjun had stayed hidden away, constantly with a nose in a book, before Donghyuck had dragged him over to their lunch table and forced the poor boy to socialize. The rest was history. Donghyuck and Renjun had always been the closest out of the other boys, which made Mark jealous at first. 

He’s not proud to admit that, but he was jealous. 

Of course, he had known Donghyuck the longest, and they had literally grown up side-by-side, the year-old age gap failing to separate them. Their following disagreement, however, had led to the entire half of sixth grade ignoring each other, splitting up their friend group in ways unimaginable. Jeno was more inclined to Mark, and Jaemin was more on Donghyuck’s side, which was split in a compromise that resulted in the two of them sitting with Renjun and Donghyuck on “odd” days, and with Mark on “even” days. For the most part, it was relatively fair. And on the odd days, Mark could always go sit with the computer science nerds, or the basketball team. He also had some sway on the soccer team, thanks to both Johnny and Yuta being absolute legends in the years before him- even though he himself only played rec. 

Honestly, though, he spent most even days sitting underneath a stairwell, eating carrot sticks and feeling sorry for himself.

Renjun himself was never the most talkative, and Mark appreciates that, watching the bare trees fly by, a constant blur of gray bark and dead leaves. Renjun, however, was also that one person that was (is) entirely too overscheduled, yet managed to have his life completely together. And he always told it like it was, which often led to strange conversations.

“Donghyuck likes you.”

Mark jerked his head up. “What?”

“You can’t be blind, Mark.”

To Mark’s blank stare, Renjun sighed.

“You can’t be _that_ blind. Hell, I’m emotionally numb to all this, and even I know Hyuck is whipped for you.”

“No, he’s not! We’re just friends!”

Renjun sighed and shook his head, as if disappointed he had to spell it out for Mark’s clueless self. “Friends that make goo-goo eyes at each other whenever they’re in the same room?”

*coughs pointedly in Sharanya’s direction*

“We do not!” 

“Okay, say you don’t. How much unnecessary physical contact do you have with each other?”

Mark thought about it for a hot second. “I mean, yesterday, he fell into me while nodding off during Pastor Taeyong’s sermon, and then he hit me, and then he brushed against me when we stood up- Oh, stop it, we don’t! It’s not romantic!”

“The fact that you have to clarify that for me is suspicious enough, my friend.”

“It’s not like that, Renjun. I swear.”

“Fine. Hypothetically, then.” At the look on Mark’s face, Renjun laughed, then continued. “So, hypothetically, you date Donghyuck. Why?”

“Because I’ve known him for a long time?”

“Is that a question?” Renjun posed. Mark felt pressured again. 

“Uh, no. Because I’ve known him for a long time. Because he’s cute. Because he’s a good singer. Because he makes me laugh.” Mark ehehe’d nervously. “But this is all. Like, hypothetical? He’s a bro? That’s it?”

“Mark, that’s not the entire list. Continue.”

“He’s my childhood friend. He’s annoying. He’s like the brother I’ve never had.”

Renjun interrupted to mumble something that sounded suspiciously like, “Sweet home Alabama.”

“He’s accessible?”

“Are you comparing Hyuck to drinking water?”

“No! It’s like… he’s always there, if I just want to talk or vent or hang. Um, we have similar tastes in music-”

Renjun coughed. “Hmmgh, trash.”

“He just kinda has this glow that makes you want to be around him. He’s an ‘influencer’ according to himself and himself only. He has this smile that’s a little too big for his face when he’s really happy. He fidgets with his shirt sleeves. He hates being short and threatens to chop off Johnny’s knees every time he comes over. He likes BTS an unhealthy amount and denies it, even though I swear to you he was singing Let Go the other day.”

“See, you notice the little details about him!”

“Because we’re _friends_ , Renjun.”

“You’re also close friends with Jeno, right?”

Mark nodded.

“M’kay, tell me a little detail about him nobody else knows.”

“He was over for a sleepover and we went on Omegle. He pretended he was a twenty-one year old girl named Annabella, when a dude promptly tried to roleplay with him.”

“Okay, uh, I didn’t know that, nor did I want to know that.”

“I still think it was what started his fanfiction writing.”

“Speaking of which, I should probably catch up on it.”

“You read his fanfiction?”

“It’s hard to find decent Sterek nowadays- everyone who liked Teen Wolf is either in grad school or a drug addict.”

“I mean, when you put it that way…” Mark trailed off. Fanfiction about fictional characters wasn’t as sketchy as fanfiction about real characters, and he swears on his life Johnny wrote EXO fanfiction. Jongin and Kyungsoo, mostly. He knew there were a couple of ~spicy~ fics, but he had never figured out how AO3 actually worked.

“But if it isn’t obvious, Donghyuck has a stupid crazy crush on you.”

“Dude, I’m straight.”

“No, you’re painfully in denial about being straight. Why else would you focus so much on the small details about him?”

“Because I appreciate the small details!”

“Again. I’m not going to push sexuality on anyone or anything, but you’ve got to face it. You, Lee Minhyung, are painfully, ridiculously, totally gay. And I’m going to leave that there.” Renjun turned on his blinker and drove into the parking lot, stopping at the main entrance. “Now get out, you pathetic excuse for an elder.”

Mark numbly got out and grabbed his backpack with a thank you. Renjun smiled and softly sing-songed, “Remember what I told you.” 

They didn’t have any classes together that day, so Mark would be thinking about their conversation.

All.

Day.

+++

APUSH-Me-Off-A-Cliff.

Everyone’s favorite class. It didn’t help that the teacher was an old man with a potbelly and constant glare, with the most hypnotizing voice. It was like listening to him made people fall asleep. As Mark struggled to take notes on the Emancipation Proclamation, he looked around to see a couple students passed out on their desks. Either Mr. Stevens didn’t know, or didn’t care. Probably the latter.

He tried to analyze the line reading, “And by virtue of the power, and for the purpose aforesaid, I do order and declare that all persons held as slaves within said designated States, and parts of States, are, and henceforward shall be free; and that the Executive government of the United States, including the military and naval authorities thereof, will recognize and maintain the freedom of said persons.”

Putting his pen to the paper, he half-heartedly wrote something, then blinked. The fuck was “Power power bestoy free”?

He scratched it out and wrote “bestow”, then scratched out the entire line. He could annotate it later.

The clock had never been moving so slow.

Mr. Stevens started, “Now, remember, class, hom-”

The bell rang shrilly and everyone booked it, not even bothering to pretend to pay attention. Mark swung by his locker, shoving his binder back in, before somebody tackled him from behind.

He shrieked.

“That’s my job, dumbass,” Chenle said with a good natured grin.

Hearing the younger ones swear was always so disconcerting for Mark. On one level, he knew they were growing up, on the other level, Chenle and Jisung would always be the annoying little kids that tagged along during church picnics. He distinctly remembered both of them having _meltdowns_ after one trip when they were too short to go “spleunking” (cave hiking but more overrated) with the older kids. 

He shook his head. “Are they already down there?”

“Yeah, probably. I’m gonna wait for you for the next ten seconds, so you’d better hurry up.”

Mark grabbed his lunch and headed down. They passed Jisung’s locker, where he was loitering before his next class, and Chenle rushed up to him to exchange their daily thirty seconds of interaction. School policies be damned, those boys would circumvent the Devil himself if it allowed them an extra minute together. Maybe Mark hardcore shipped it.

A hand squeeze, a meaningful glance towards Mark, and a pout from Jisung later, they were on their way to the art room, where they loitered during their lunch period. Technically, they were supposed to be in the cafeteria, but the third art room had all been abandoned when the teacher quit a number of years before, and they jokingly called it the Don’t Need Your Love club. The room was covered in white sheets, and used as a storage closet by the theater kids.

The entire student population had all but forgotten about it, the dusty room that faced the outside of the school, where the sun would hit just right to reflect the particles and illuminate their sleep-deprived faces. For a place where nobody gave a crap, it was quite a romantic spot- if you were into mothballs and choking on every other breath.

Mark stepped in, and Jaemin called, “Mind the armor. They finally moved it.”

The armor was cardboard and tinfoil, made for a play from ages ago- A Midsummer’s Knight Dream, if Mark recalled correctly. Jaemin and Jeno sat on the rickety stools, eating sandwiches and sharing a plastic tupperware filled with grapes.

Chenle leapt onto the counter and plunked down, head hitting the cabinets. “Ow.”

“How many times do we have to tell you you’re too damn tall to do that? You’re seventeen, act like it.” Jaemin chucked a grape in Chenle’s general direction, who aggressively scooched towards it and caught it in his mouth.

“No. You’re not my dad. Ugly-ass ratchet old noodle head.”

Chenle opened his lunchbox. “Besides, I got dumplings today, and I don’t feel like sharing.”

Jaemin gasped. “If I were Jisung, you’d share them!”

“Duh.” Chenle shrugged and shook his head solemnly. “But you aren’t Jisung.”

“Come onnnnnn…” Jaemin complained.

“You’re eighteen, act like it.”

Just as Mark feared a ChenJae brawl would break out, Donghyuck poked his head into the room. “Hello, hoes, I have arrived.”

He was also carrying a lunch box, which he almost never had.

“Wait, did you finally bring lunch?” Jeno asked.

“Yep.” He popped the p to add the effect of him being a drama queen. Mark wasn’t sure if the precedent was for all gay guys to be flamboyant af, which is why he remained the sole straight in the friend group- to even out the scale, so to speak.

“So, I brought food.”

“Cookies?” Jaemin asked hopefully.

“Not for you.”

“Bitch?”

“Fine, a couple for you.” He opened up the lunchbox, and took out a small metal container. Rice and vegetables. But then, underneath… the most adorable frosted cookies, salted caramel cookies, ginger nuts- _and was that what he thought it was?_ Macarons- the same pale pink color as the cherry ones they had eaten in New York City.

“Dude.”

“I could kiss you right now,” Jeno said. 

Jaemin looked personally attacked.

“Can I have one?” Chenle asked, bouncing up.

“I know. I’m awesome.”

Jaemin shook his head. “Na. [This is funny, laugh] Your sister’s awesome. If I were straight, 10/10 would date.” Now it was Jeno’s turn to look scandalized, but if Mark knew those two (and believe him, he knew them) they’d make up in the next three seconds. Jaemin took a frosted cookie and broke it in half. Jeno grudgingly took it.

“But you’re not straight,” Chenle pointed out around a mouthful of salted caramel. “Mark’s the straight one, he can date Hyuckie’s sister.”

Donghyuck caught Mark’s eye and he could’ve sworn he saw a flicker of something, but he blinked and laughed. “Sure, you can date her.” He dropped his voice ominously. “If you’re willing to deal with her boyfriend.”

“Nope,” Mark said, walking over to take one of the macarons. He was somewhat of a connoisseur, if he said so himself, constantly searching for the perfect macaron- thin and crispy on the outer shell, soft and chewy, the filling not too sweet but not too subtle. All a delicate balance. So far, in his measly eighteen years, the ones eaten in New York had been the best. These were close. 

He opened his eyes.

“So, what’d ya think?” Jaemin asked, eyes widened mockingly.

“Yeah, how is it?” Chenle made his way towards the macarons, unsure whether to take one.

“We’re all interested,” Jeno said.

“It’s perfect.” He smiled, looking at Hyuck. “They’re perfect.”

_You’re perfect._

“Gay. Gay. Gay, gay, gay, gay… gAY.” Chenle chanted, then screeched when Jeno poked him in the side. “hOe-”

Donghyuck raised an eyebrow and opened his container. “Now, remember, Cnehle, this is the don’t need your love club for a reason.”

“Harvey is gone already, I don’t see why we need to keep the name. It’s his own fault for crushing on-”

“-Don’t say it!” Jaemin said warningly.

“ _Loren Gray._ ”

Jaemin shuddered visibly. Mark knew Loren through rumors and legends, the tiny blonde that brought doom whenever her name was mentioned. 

“Yay, Chenle,” Jeno said listlessly.

“Moving on, what are you doing in ELA?” Jaemin asked enthusiastically, trying (and failing) at steering the conversation on a different course. 

Jeno looked at him in confusion. “Oh! Uh, we’re reading The Joy Luck Club, and it’s good.”

Chenle stood up. Saluting at the stick in the corner where the flag used to hang, he opened his mouth and belted the USSR anthem. “Soyuz nerushimyy respublik svobodnykh/Splotila naveki Velikaya Rus'.”

Jaemin wiped a tear from his eye. “Oh my god, that was beautiful. We’ve taught him well, Jeno.”

“Speak for ourselves, comrade.”

“Comrades, the spoils of war are laid before us. Shall we not feast?” Donghyuck asked, jazzily flourishing his hands towards the spread of cookies laid across the table.

“Feed the peasants, first.”

Mark slammed his head against the table.

“This man is not one of us, comrades.” Jaemin wagged his finger.

“I hate you guys.”

“Comrade, that is not for the good of the country.”

“Comrades, shall we?”

The other four boys nodded solemnly in agreement, and soon Mark was looking at the shut door to the art room, lunch box in his hand.

He checked his phone- ten minutes before lunch was over -and leaned against the wall.

Less than a minute later, he heard screeching noises. The door swung open. With a loud, “AND STAY OUT,” Jaemin slammed the door shut, and Donghyuck stood in front of Mark, holding his bag of macarons.

“Capitalists,” he grumbled, before sitting down.

To Mark’s confused face, he shrugged. “Well? Aren’t you gonna join me?”

Mark sat down.

Donghyuck handed him a macaron.

Mark awkwardly bit it.

“Dude, why are you acting so weird?”

Mark startled. Awkwardly. “Uhhh, what? No, I’m fine. It’s just homework.”

“Stop lying.”

“I would never lie to you.”

“See, that in itself is a lie.” Donghyuck slumped and spread himself out, lying entirely on the floor. “Aish, Mark Lee, what am I going to do with you?”

“Deal with me for another couple of months before we graduate and you move to the city.”

“Shut up.” Donghyuck pressed his fingers together like an evil genius, still completely on the floor, making no move to rise up from his resting place. “What am I gonna do with you right now?”

Mark froze.

“I feel like I’m making conversation with a brick wall.”

Turning to face the wall, Donghyuck slipped into easy conversation with it.

“Hello, wall.”

“‘Hi, Donghyuck.’”

“How are you doing today, wall?”

“‘Well, I’m good, how about you?’”

“I’m about to bitch slap my best friend because he can’t make a conversation, Mr. Wall.”

“Okay, okay, stop.” Mark said.

“You may be wondering why I got kicked out of the room.”

“Not really, no. I heard you arguing with Jaemin again?”

“Yeah, I’m not allowed back in until you check it off.”

“Uh, check what off?”

“The survey of doom, of course.” Rummaging through his pocket, he pulled out a wrinkled scrap of notebook paper. Written across it in Donghyuck’s sloppy handwriting, it read:

_Do you like me?_

_-Yes_

_-Yes_

_-This ain’t no multiple choice standardized test_

Mark laughed. “So they need me to fill this out before you get let back in?”

Donghyuck blew out a large breath that ruffled his bangs. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“Do you have a pen?”

“Yup.”

Donghyuck chucked the pen in Mark’s face.

Mark uncapped it, checked off all three, and handed the paper back to him.

“Great.”

Donghyuck turned to the door and banged on it a couple of times.

Jaemin opened it. “Wow, so soon? You can come back inside.”

He pulled Donghyuck in by the hood and slammed the door again. Locking it this time, for good measure.

Mark looked down at his shaking hand.

The bell rang.

+++

“Kill. Me.” Mark groaned, slamming his locker shut and facing Hendery. His backpack felt ten times heavier than it did in the morning, even though only two textbooks had been added.

“We need an extra player for the Thursday night Ultimate Mario Kart Tournament Part Three. I will refrain from killing you until then.”

“What, Xiaojun can’t come?”

“Something about a hot physics tutor. Or maybe it was hard? Probably hard.”

Mark shook his head, pushing the door open for Hendery. “Sucks.”

“It be like that sometimes.”

The people around them continued rushing, Mark almost got trampled by a freshie, who squeaked out something unintelligible and sprinted off.

“Whoa, were we really that small?” Hendery asked, squinting at the kid that had disappeared into a sea of kids.

“Can’t believe it either.”

They headed out of the school, and Mark shuddered at the blast of cold air that hit him in the face. The bus was taking its sweet time to arrive, that was for sure.

“Why didn’t you wear a coat?” Hendery asked.

“I don’t know, I’m stupid. Where’s the bus, I’m dying.”

“There are children starving in Africa.”

“Let my first world problems be my first world problems.”

The bus pulled in and Mark sprinted towards it, dying internally.

“Dude, calm down.”

“I’M COLD!” Mark yelled back.

The inquisitive eyes of multiple middle schoolers looked up. Somebody laughed.

“That’s what I meant,” Hendery said, pushing Mark forward. “Now move. Some of us are trying to get away from this hellhole.”

Seriously, Mark had the most supportive friends.

Halfway through the bus ride, when it lurched to a stop, Mark’s stomach felt weird.

Hendery was still invested in the current round of Plants vs. Zombies, when one of his Bonk Choys was eaten.

“Oh, come on!”

He spam clicked on the sunflower. “Do something, will ya? Useless little- ah, shit!”

A kid in the front yelled, “MR. BUS DRIVER, SOMEBODY SWEARED AGAIN.”

“I SAID SHIP, YOU LITTLE SNITCH.” Hendery hollered, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

“Dude, my stomach feels weird,” Mark whispered.

“If you fart, you better do it when I’m not near you.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem. You’ve got what, ten minutes? Hold on.”

“Why you bully me?”

“That’s a dead meme, Mark. That’s a dead meme.”

Mark stared out the window, wondering how a movie director would film this scene. A close up shot of his head being rattled, probably a dramatic voiceover, maybe some editing to make the scene look grayer.

The bus stopped.

Hendery got off, nodding once at Mark, before disappearing forever- or, at least for the next twenty-four hours.

Mark was too busy trying not to cry at the throbbing pain in his lower abdomen.

Was that what cramps felt like?

Because if so, he felt for his mom. (you are on your period, huh?)

The bus stopped at his house, Mark grabbed his backpack and rushed off, thanking Mr. Bus Driver profusely before fumbling with his key and sprinting to the bathroom, whereupon his stomach pains immediately ceased.

Thinking that was that, he headed into his room and opened his computer, where he checked his Latin homework.

The teacher had all but given up. The newest assignment was a link to IXL.com, where he sorted words by the root. 

He was done in ten minutes, and leaning down to pull out his mathematics binder, when his stomach gurgled loudly and he collapsed to the floor in pain.

Damn it, he really should’ve written out his last will and testimony.

He sprinted to the bathroom and locked the door. Dry-heaving, forehead sweaty, knees were weak, mom’s spaghetti.

It felt a lot like the time he got sick from Johnny’s pasta, actually.

He lifted his head, closing his eyes. Deep breath in, deep breath out, deep breath in, deep breath out, short break of intense pain.

Mark struggled his way to his feet and splashed some water on his face, before heading back to his room and re-focusing on his Calculus homework. Which, to the great disappointment of his parents, was not AP, but math was _muy difficul_ and he was already a burnout.

Sharpening his pencil and wondering when he would ever need to know the volume of a frustum in actual real life, he copied down the first problem before another wave of stomach pain hit him.

He rolled his eyes and went back to copying down the problems. As if to retaliate, he felt bile rise up in his throat, and he sprinted back out the bathroom.

After thirty minutes of ineffective homework solving, he headed downstairs and made himself a cup of ginger tea. He sat down on a chair, sipping his tea and feeling like a new man. Then, of course, because the universe loved him like that, an overwhelming feeling of nausea overcame him. That was it. He gave up.

Mark set the cup of tea down, headed upstairs, shut his blinds, and crawled into bed.

“Alexa,” he called out weakly, as if into the void.

The blue light sprang to life.

“Play my depression playlist.”

“Playing your: Expressions Playlist.”

As “Happy” from Pharrell Williams played, Mark resolved to delete the playlist. “Alexa.”

No response.

_Because I’m happy, clap along if you feel like a room-_

“Alexaaaa.”

 _Happiness is the truth_.

“Alexa!”

_Clap alo-o-ong if you feel like that’s whatchu_

“ALEXA, STOP.”

The blue ring flashed and disappeared.

“Alexa, play my DePrEsSiOn playlist.”

“Playing you DeEeEeEEpression playlist.”

“Moral of the Story”

_But really I was foolish_

_Hindsight it's_

_Obvious_

Mark closed his eyes and fell asleep.

+++

When he woke up, he felt awful. His hair was matted, his stomach still hurt, his eyes had crusted over and he couldn’t think straight.

He tried pushing himself up into a sitting position and immediately hit his head on the bed frame. Mark was very close to tears. Shakily pushing the covers off, he checked his clock- seven o’clock, Johnny still wasn’t home -he made his way to the bathroom, where he proceeded to hurl his internal organs out.

He got up and wiped his hand across his mouth, then fell backwards.

His head hurt.

Everything hurt.

Johnny worked until eight o’clocks on Mondays, and sometimes had to stay until nine.

Mark groaned. He shifted, pushing himself up to a sitting position, and gagged. He spat the excess bile into the toilet, and flushed.

He wanted to commit a crime.

Actually, there weren’t many crimes a person keeled over from food poisoning- at least, he hoped it was food poisoning -could commit.

Maybe hacking something?

Except the fact that he couldn’t actually hack.

Realizing that he had larger problems to focus on, he put a stop to the stream of useless thoughts that ran through his head and tried (valiantly) to stand, which he managed. He washed his hands. Brushed his teeth. Headed downstairs. Every single task felt like a herculean feat. Simply lifting his foot required all his energy. His phone was still in his pocket, and he took it out to see two new notifications. Two texts from Donghyuck.

 **Hyuck:** HEY I’M SORRY

 **Hyuck:** DID YOU GET FOOD POISONING HENDERY TOLD ME YOU WEREN’T DOING TOO WELL

 **.Mark:** Yup, food poisoning

 **Mark:** I’m doing kk

 **Mark: *** okay

 **Hyuck:** kkkkkkk

 **Hyuck:** i’m coming over

 **Mark:** DON’T

 **Hyuck:** try stopping me, mark on his deathbed

Mark might’ve cried. Mark definitely would’ve cried. Mark slumped forwards across the table and temporarily let his soul leave his body.

However, since his homework was unfinished, he could not die yet. Instead, he drank his (now-cold) ginger tea and contemplated his life choices. 

About twenty minutes later, give or take a few internal monologues, Mark heard the garage door being opened. Donghyuck walked in, and pulled off his shoes, placing them neatly on the shoe rack in the mud room, which was rarely used. Mark made no move to acknowledge him.

“I’m sorry, the heavy cream I used was expired.”

Mark glanced up. “You made the macarons?”

Donghyuck shrugged. “I mean, it wasn’t that hard.”

“I’m dying, though. It would be prettier if you weren’t here.”

Hyuck rolled his eyes, sitting down next to Mark. “Lee Minhyung, I’ve literally known you since birth. Nothing could scare me away now.”

Mark choked on air.

“Hey, if you’re going to throw up, don’t do it on the floor.”

Mark nodded. Then shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I’ve been feeling better, I swear.”

Donghyuck squinted at him. “Sounds fake but okay.”

Mark laughed, and then winced as it scratched his throat.

“Stop talking. I’ll get you hot water.”

Mark pointed to his mug.

“It’s cold, cold tea won’t do you any good.”

Mark watched as Donghyuck made his way around the kitchen with ease. He filled the kettle and plugged it in, found the mugs, opened the icebox and took a lemon, tossing it between his hands. He set it down. He picked it up. Like watching an art, the way simple movements became graceful once he performed. All the world was a stage, and all the men and women merely background characters for Donghyuck. He came to a standstill when he saw Mark watching him.

“Look, hon, I know I’m beautiful, but you need rest. Go upstairs and stay there until I tell you otherwise.”

Mark got up.

Donghyuck raised his eyebrows. “Upstairs, Mark.”

_Mark exits from stage left._

_A close up shot of the cold tea and the blurred image of Donghyuck in the background, humming._

_The screen cuts out for a second, the camera panning to follow his footsteps as they make their way up the stairs._

_Mark pauses in front of his doorframe. The camera follows his gaze to focus on a photo of him and Hyuck, standing in front of the church, no older than six. Mark has a wide smile, arm around Donghyuck, knobby knees poking out from underneath a pair of Johnny’s basketball shorts. Donghyuck is purposefully making a grotesque face, tongue sticking out through the hole in his teeth, navy blue t-shirt reading “Like a Boss”._

_Mark smiles and makes a face back at the shadows of the past, then groans and flops onto his bed._

_He stares up at the ceiling._

Donghyuck walked in. He looked around the room, sat down on Mark’s swivel chair, and spun around a few times for good measure.

“You better go to sleep before I beat you into a coma.”

“What about the tea?”

“Go to sleep.”

Mark grimaced. “Don’t wanna.”

“You’re such a child sometimes.”

“Still more mature than you.”

“I was joking about beating you, but I might actually do it.”

“...I’ll go to sleep.”

Mark closed his eyes and suddenly became acutely aware of how loud he was breathing.

This wasn’t helping him relax at all.

Somehow, the exhaustion did its thing and Mark fell asleep again, the only thought sticking with him about how fucked up his sleep schedule was going to be for the next three weeks.

+++

Mark opened his eyes to see Donghyuck next to him, intently studying his face.

“Oh, you’re up!”

Mark coughed. “Yup. I feel like death.”

“Do you need to throw up?”

“Please don’t do that.”

“What, care about you?” Donghyuck asked.

“No, you sound like my mother.”

“Is your stomach better, anyways?”

Mark fumbled for his glasses before remembering that he was wearing contacts before having a moment of intense panic as he remembered he hadn’t removed his contacts.

Mark then realized he didn’t wear glasses in the first place.

“Are common side effects of food poisoning hallucinations?”

“Yes, of course. I’m a figment of your imagination~” Donghyuck whispered.

“Don’t do that, I’m going to start crying.”

“Well, I couldn’t find the salt, so you could add some seasoning to your soup.”

“It’s in the cupboard. Not the spice cabinet, the one above the oven.”

“Wow, you guys are wack. I’ll go get you some soup.”

“Excuse me? Wack?”

“Stop arguing with me, you’ve got to rest.”

Mark stared across his room to the backpack on the floor, where the pounds of homework lay at the bottom, waiting for him to complete it.

“I hate you,” he muttered quietly.

“You what now?” Donghyuck asked, pushing the door open further with his leg. “After I make you soup and everything?”

“Not you.” Mark pointed to his homework. “Hey, wait, I’m not supposed to eat upstairs.”

Donghyuck set the tray down on Mark’s nightstand. “You’re running a hundred degree fever. I think they’ll make an exception for once.”

“I was downstairs before you came,” he protested.

“You looked like trash.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Drink the soup.”

Mark shifted and grabbed the bowl of soup. The thin broth had pieces of mushrooms floating in it. He took a small sip. His stomach revolted. Donghyuck raised his eyebrows, asking _You okay?_ in a way only he could. Mark shook his head and ran into the bathroom, tripping over his laundry basket. Hyuck was right behind him, already supporting him as he retched.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay.”

Mark took another raggedy breath and a laugh bubbled up, scratching his throat painfully. He coughed more, the force rattling his body, the taste of vomit filling his mouth.

Donghyuck rubbed his back. “You’re fine.”

“Can it be over?”

“You’re okay.”

“I’m not gonna lie, I hate you for bringing in those macarons.”

“If it’s any consolation, I hate myself, too.”

“No. Stop.”

“What, I thought we were bullying me?”

“Sing something.”

“Mark, are you all there? Quite all right in the head?”

“Do you think I am?”

“Hold that thought for a second, I heard the garage door.”

Mark heard the door swing open, and Johnny’s booming voice yell, “You’d better come down, Mark, somebody’s broken in and cooked!”

Donghyuck hoisted Mark up and hollered right back. “I’m staying over, Johnny-hyungie! Don’t worry, I’ll break your kneecaps when Mark’s not keeled over from food poisoning.”

“OKAY, COOL. IS HE COMING DOWN FOR DINNER?”

“NAH, HE’S TOO MUCH OF A WHINY BRAT, HE’S INSISTING ON BEING SERVED.”

“That sounds kind of kinky. Okay, have fun!”

“You are insufferable,” Mark rasped.

“I know.” Donghyuck shrugged. “Yo, wait wait wait. Hold up. This could be the greatest TikTok.”

“Are you going to teach me how to renegade or something?”

“Nah. Renegading is so 2019. Besides, rest is the best way to heal. Wash your hands.”

Mark complied with Donghyuck’s orders, silently washing his hands and exiting his bathroom, ending up in his bed again, smelling the soup. He wasn’t hungry, wasn’t tired, wasn’t having a midlife crisis.

He just didn’t want to do anything.

“Do you still have my clothes?” Hyuck asked.

“Your what now?”

“My clothes, Mark Lee. You know, the thing most humans wear unless they’re in some kind of nudist colony from the seventies?”

“They’re probably in the guest room.”

“I’m going to go eat with Johnny, do you think you can survive thirty minutes without me?”

“I could survive a hundred years without you,” Mark replied.

“Keep lying to yourself.”

Mark smiled grimly to himself as Donghyuck closed the door and left.

+++

Now, Mark knew it was pretty gay to kiss the homies, but was it gay to share a bed with them?

Not in the case of Yuta, of course, because he wasn’t aware of that, but his bed desk was set up and they were playing Fireboy and Watergirl in their pajamas, Hyuck close enough that Mark could smell his perfume.

“Come on, stupid, why aren’t you moving? We’ve gotta get green on this level.”

Mark pushed the arrow key and launched Fireboy straight into a puddle of green goo.

“Not that kind of green, Mark,” Donghyuck reprimanded, restarting the level.

“I know, I know,” he said, jumping past Donghyuck’s Watergirl avatar and holding down the button. “I’m just distracted right now.”

As if on cue, the door swung open with a bang. Mark flinched and launched himself across the room, except from getting anywhere, he entangled himself in the sheets with Donghyuck. Johnny screamed, “A-hA, I CAUGHT YOU!” The dying wail of Watergirl pierced the silence as Johnny took in the scene. “Yo, wait, what are you doing?”

“Hi, Johnny,” Hyuck responded smoothly. “We’re playing Fireboy and Watergirl, what else?”

“Okay…” he said, backing up a step. “But I have my eye on you two.”

“Why not both?” Mark asked.

“Because the other one will be turning a blind eye to whatever shenanigans that go on when you guys are left alone.”

“You’re always attached to Yuta, no one accuses you two of being gay for each other.” Mark pointed out.

“Well, yeah, because I have a boyfriend.”

“What about the decade before, when you hadn’t met Ten?” Hyuck asked. Verbal tag teaming, a skill they had perfected over the years, although it had gotten them banned basketball games at recess for a month.

“Everyone was too scared of Yuta.” Johnny leaned against the doorframe, stretching.

“Can you leave?” Mark asked.

“Ah, yes, anything for my dear little brother. Use protection, have safe sex.”

“He’s sLEEPING ON AN AIR MATTRESS!”

Johnny turned from the hallway. “He is?”

“I am?”

“Not helping!” Mark hissed. For the second time that night, he was close to tears. Except this time for an entirely different reason. “Yes, you’re sleeping on an air mattress.”

“That’s low. We’ve known each other for our entire lives, and this is the thanks I get?”

“Would you rather be called gay?”

Hyuck squinted. “Would you rather be so fragile in your sexuality you become the very thing you sought to destroy?”

Mark lost his train of thought.

“Besides, if you haven’t noticed already, I am extremely gay, as is the rest of our friend group. Except for Lenjunida, but he’s just… him. Not gay, not straight, and not quite human.”

Mark nodded, somewhat thrown off by the mention of Renjun. It’s not that he’s jealous- they’ve been there, done that, gotten the t-shirt -but the fact that Hyuck talks about him so much is an interesting one. Mark would like to believe he has no opinion on the subject.

“Well, it’s about ten. We should go to sleep.”

“Did you really mean it when you said I had to sleep on the air mattress, though?” 

Donghyuck pouted.

Mark melted.

Mark quickly realized that was gay and went into panicked straight mode.

“Nope, of course not.”

Hyuck smiled sunshine-ly (that’s not a word, Mark knows it isn’t) and Mark flopped helplessly until he got out from under the blankets.

“Alright, I’m going to… brush my teeth?”

“Coolio. I’m done.”

“I know you are.”

Mark spat the foam back into the sink, mentally replaying the conversation.

 _“Brush my teeth?”_

Seriously, how much more stupid could he get?

Pah.

He shook his head and cringed as his stomach emitted a low rumbling sound.

Thanks, stomach.

Fun.

Donghyuck looked up as Mark re-entered the room, and launched into a spiel. It was a nice way to distract himself. And because Donghyuck didn’t shut up.

“Here’s my thing. Listen up, okay? It’s about insults.”

Mark nodded. _Where exactly was he taking this?_

“Right? Because, you see, gay culture is taking all these insults and embracing them. Yes, I am a pansy ass bitch, what about it, Jacob? What are you? Single?”

Mark snorted.

“So yeah, there’s like the degrading shit, but now that corona- oh, sorry, Covid-19 -is like a thing, I just cough on people. Good luck calling me a name when your body bag is being prepared, amiright?”

“Where are you going with this?”

“Pfft, you think I know? Please. You’d be better off convincing me Hendery’s going to create the cure for cancer.”

“You do know his dad works at the lab downtown, and they’re actually trying to find a cure for liver cancer, and Hendery’s working there for credits?”

“Well, shit, Mark, I didn’t. Okay, but hoe and whore have these different connotations, right? So then, how come I’m a whore, and, like, Jaemin’s a hoe? Actually, Jaemin isn’t a hoe. Huh, who in our friend group is a hoe?”

Mark shrugged helplessly.

“Because they mean the same thing, but-”

“My head hurts.”

“Sorry. Turn off the light, then.”

“Johnny’s going to call us gay tomorrow morning,” Mark warned, shutting the light off.

“Mark, if you haven’t noticed by now, at least one of us is gay.”

Mark gagged.

“See, now that was gay. Good night.”

“Good night,” Mark squeaked out.

His face was so flushed it was probably glowing in the darkness.

Like a glow stick, or something.

Yeah, because glow sticks glew.

Glowed?

“Mark, go to sleep,” Hyuck hissed.

“I’m sleeping, I’m sleeping. You go to sleep.”

Hyuck turned over.

“Okay.”

Mark fell asleep to the sound of light breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so tired  
> kick it slaps  
> also also this kind of food poisoning does in fact exist i don't remember what it's called but it does  
> https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/food-poisoning/symptoms-causes/syc-20356230  
> "Staphylococcus aureus  
> 1 to 6 hours  
> Meats and prepared salads, cream sauces, and cream-filled pastries. Can be spread by hand contact, coughing and sneezing."  
> huh  
> i guess kissing cookies ain't the way to go  
> Anyways, I have most definitely contracted a case of this. I never trusted cafeteria food afterwards.


	4. Day 3: Hyuck Drives Away, But We Don’t Know Whether It’s Shitty Or Not

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is all crack.
> 
> Like.
> 
> All of it.
> 
> There’s a formatting issue with the texting.
> 
> Me from the future: I am fixing the formatting issue with the texting.

Mark woke up in a panic, unsure of what was happening or what did happen.

He looked around, where there was no sign of Donghyuck. No wrinkled sheets, no displaced pillow, no faint scent of perfume lingering in the surrounding air like a distant memory one couldn’t quite place, no sign of life (other than himself, obviously) angsty or not.

“Hyuck?” he called out, feeling quite stupid. No response. Mark rubbed his face with one hand and checked the clock, which read 8:29.

Well, he was late.

Stretching and wincing as his back cracked, he got out of bed and stepped on a pin.

It was like the universe was conspiring against him to make him believe he lost his mind.

Not that it was uncommon for Mark to step on small pointy objects, per se, but this small pointy object was an earring.

Oops, he just crushed Hyuck’s earring.

He heard the shower running from Johnny’s room, so as any sane person would do, he knocked on the door.

No response, but obnoxious singing.

Yup, that was Johnny.

“Hey, bro.” Mark said, walking into the clouded bathroom. “Can you call the school and say I’m sick?”

“Do I look like your brother?” a voice shot back, muffled slightly behind the thick glass.

“oH MY GO- UH HOLY WHAT WHY ARE YOU HERE-”

“CALM DOWN AND GET OUT!” Hyuck screamed back, and as Mark tripped over himself in an attempt to get the fuck out.

“No, but why are you-”

“I’ll explain later, when I’m dressed?!”

“Uh-” Mark stumbled. “Yeah, that sounds great!”

Then he slammed the door shut and hyperventilated.

Seriously, with the way he managed to get himself stuck in uncomfortable situations, you’d think it was his hobby.

Mark got up, then retched in the back of his throat.

_Oh, fun._

He re-entered his room, noting the glasses on his nightstand, then realized that he was just really dumb. Of course he wore glasses, what was the whole glasses panic about last night? He can’t imagine how Donghyuck kept a straight face.

He changed and headed downstairs, where Johnny hadn’t left any clues to what might have happened, but, you know. Johnny. You couldn’t really trust him for anything.

Mark poured himself a bowl of Cheerios. Now, where had he put his phone?

The phone was found on the coffee table in the living room, even though Mark had no recollection of placing anything on the coffee table during the past 48 hours.

Turning it on, he found that he had at least a hundred new notifications.

Huh.

The most recent text was in the group chat.

 **Dolphin Boy:** AY GUESS WHAT WE DON’T HAVE SCHOOL WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

 **No Jams:** Ay Chenle please shut up

 **Dolphin Boy:** 👺😂 ι ᵗ卄𝒾几𝓴 Ⓣ𝕙έ 𝒇ยⓒķ ŇＯT 💚👍

 **No Jams:** Okay but what does that even say

 **Jisungie** 🍡 **:** ignore him, he got a fonts keyboard and thinks he’s the coolest *swear censor!* since sliced bread

 **Jisungie 🍡:** ight who the *i’m a child of god* turned on text replacement again

 **NaNa:** I HEARD MY CHILDREN WERE SWEARING AGAIN

 **Jisungie 🍡:** im not your child

 **NaNa:** damn straight you are

**Jisungie 🍡: dad im gay**

**NaNa:** i’m so glad you decided to come out. your father and i have been working to create a safe enviromment in this home. 🥺🥺💖💖

 **Dolphin Boy:** *environment

 **NaNa:** oh mi god cnehle shut the fuck up

**Dolphin Boy: 😢**

**No Jams:** Now look what you’ve done

 **No Jams:** You’re tearing this family apart

 **NaNa:** your supposed to take my side

 **NaNa:** im dating a dumbass

 **Dolphin Boy:** *you’re

 **Dolphin Boy:** *i’m

 **NaNa:** 𝖔𝖍 𝖒𝖞 𝖌𝖔𝖉 𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖓𝖑𝖊 𝖓𝖔𝖇𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊𝖘

 **Jisungie 🍡:** don’t worry chenle i care

 **Dolphin Boy:** 🐬 🎀 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃𝓀 𝓎🏵𝓊 🎀 🐬

 **NaNa:** actually that was kind of cute

 **Dolphin Boy:** wasn’t talking to you but ok

? **Mark:** What happened

 **NaNa:** well, well, wlel, if it isn’t mr. perfect grammar

. **Mark:** Look, I came here for a news update, not to be attacked

 **NaNa:** now you get none for the prics of them all

 **Jisungie 🍡:** that made… absolutely no *i’m a child of god*ing sense

 **No Jams:** Stop spamming

 **Jisungie 🍡:** you just doomed yourself

 **Dolphin Boy:** I

 **Dolphin Boy:** H

 **Dolphin Boy:** E

 **Dolphin Boy:** A

 **Dolphin Boy:** R

 **Dolphin Boy:** D

 **Dolphin Boy:** T

 **NaNa:** chenle stop

 **Dolphin Boy:** N

 **Dolphin Boy:** E

 **Dolphin Boy:** V

 **Dolphin Boy:** E

 **Dolphin Boy:** R

 **Jisungie 🍡:** lele

 **Jisungie 🍡:** please?

 **Dolphin Boy:**...fine

? **Mark:** Thank you. Now, can somebody please explain what the hell is happening

 **NaNa:** HEY GUYS CHRISTIAN BOY JUST SWORE

 **NaNa:** MORK LEE JUST SWEARED

 **NaNa:** caLL THE POLICE AND GET A VAT OF HOLY WATER WHILE YOU’RE AT IT

 **No Jams:** You should’ve learned a long time ago that this place is not reliable for news

 **No Jams:** Try the school website

. **Mark:** Thanks, Jeno

 **NaNa:** he’s my boyfriend

. **Mark:** Please calm down

. **Mark:** I am not flirting with your boyfriend, nor do I have any desire to date him

 **NaNa:** nevertheless i have my eyes on you

 **NaNa:** i just used a big word stop texting like a damn boomer mark i have no desire to start typing like a grandfather

? **Mark:** Are you mocking me

 **No Jams:** Mark even I can tell

 **Jisungie 🍡:** gee pop i didnt know you could read

 **No Jams:** Hey where did Chenle go?

 **Jisungie 🍡:** hes practicing piano again

 **NaNa:** oh no wonder you’re so salty all of a sudden

... **Mark:** Okay, I’ll just

. **Mark:** Go

 **NaNa:** bye

 **NaNa:** don’t return until you and hyuck announce you’re a thing

 **NaNa:** think about it

 **NaNa:** star crossed god siblings

 **NaNa:** the entire world against them

 **NaNa:** the perfect romance never to be

 **NaNa:** hold up this corld be a really good fic idea 

**Jisungie 🍡:** sir not everyone is gay

 **NaNa:** you claimed you were straight until you two started dating

 **No Jams:** Jaemin I love you but you have to stop

 **NaNa:** y-you lobe me?

 **Jisungie 🍡:** ew imagine being domestic

 **Renjun (scary):** ALL OF YOU, SHUT THE FUCK UP

Mark shut off his phone. He heard Donghyuck’s footsteps going down the stairs. He ate another spoonful of Cheerios.

Hyuck shook his head, and pulled out a chair, before plopping down in it.

“So, as you have probably heard, school shut down over COVID-19 fears.”

“On a Tuesday? Shouldn't they have announced it on Sunday?”

“Mark, you of all people should know we have a shitty school system.”

“True. So, how long are we on lockdown for?”

“At least until the end of the week, if not longer. People in Florida are already saying they have five weeks off.”

Mark blew out a breath. “So, what about testing and stuff? Finals?”

“We’ll burn that bridge when it comes to it. Do you guys still have Cinnamon Toast Crunch?”

“Ugh, only you would eat that. I don’t know why my mom still buys it.”

“Because she loves me.”

That much was true. Sometimes, Mark wondered if she loved Donghyuck more than him.

Donghyuck stood up. “Let me guess, in the third shelf of the cabinet.”

“I think so, unless we moved it.”

Hyuck peered into the cabinet and rummaged around, taking out a half empty (half full?) bag of cereal. He looked in the sink. “When was the last time you guys cleaned this place?”

“Uh. Recently.”

“Within the past week?”

“That’s a stretch.”

Hyuck reached up into the cabinet above the dishwasher and swore.

“Why are the bowls so far up there?”

“Something about making them less accessible to be motivation for cleaning the dishes.”

“It just means Johnny has an easier time getting to them, dumbass.”

“That’s no-” Mark paused mid-sentence. “Hold up.”

“For somebody so smart, you can be incredibly stupid.”

Hyuck sat down and poured milk into his bowl.

“Hey, are you pouring the milk first?” Mark exclaimed.

“I’ve been doing it for the past twelve years, every time I’ve come to your house, and you just noticed?”

“Okay, but that’s gotta be illegal.” Mark took his phone out and took a photo while Donghyuck poured the cereal into his bowl, where they floated on top. Disgusting.

“Shoot, that’s bad quality.”

Hyuck took a bite of cereal. “Perhaps it is not the quality of the phone, but the quality of the user.”

“Trash?”

“Can you stop self-deprecating yourself? Like. It takes all the fun out of roasting you.”

Mark ignored him and finished the last of his Cheerios. “Homework time.”

“Come on, Mark. They just said we have no school. Can’t we have a little fun?”

“Work hard, play harder.”

“You sound like my dad.”

“Well, I didn’t know you had a daddy kink.”

Donghyuck stopped eating his cereal to carefully scrutinize Mark. 

He stood up and made his way around the table to stare him down.

Mark scooched away as Donghyuck leaned in closer.

Too close for comfort.

Close enough that they’d end up kissing if either of them moved. 

“Nope, just as I thought. Still a panicked straight.”

“hEY-”

+++

“Are you still salty about me calling you a panicked straight?”

No response.

+++

“Maaaaaaaaarkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk.”

Silence.

+++

“Mark, it’s been two hours.”

+++

“Mark, I love you.”

+++

About two seconds later:

“AY BITCH YOU’RE RIGHT NEXT TO ME RESPOND”

+++

“Mark.”

+++

His phone pinged.

 **Hyuck:** are you still mad @ me

??

:((

+++

“Mark, I’m hungry.”

+++

“Mark, are you done with your homework?”

+++

“Would you stop me if I tried to kiss you?”

+++

“AH, FUCK. I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’VE DONE THIS.”  
+++

“You know, you didn’t need to push me _that_ hard.”

+++

“Mark, screw you.”

+++

“I want to fuck you over the kitchen sink.”

+++

“Wow, I thought that would’ve elicited some sort of response.”

+++

“Mark, I’m sorryyyyyyyy~”

+++

“Mark, I apologize for calling you a panicked straight. It’s obvious you are neither.”

+++

“BWAHAHAHA- THE LOOK ON YOUR FACE- I CAN’T BREATHE-”

_*thunk*_

_“Ow.”_

+++

“You’re a little bitch.”

+++

“I’m done with my homework.”

“Okay, what do you want for lunch?”

“Are you joking?! That’s all I had to say?! It’s two o’clock!”

Mark smiled. “You finished your homework.”

“Screw you always being a model student.”

“I’m not-”

“-shut up. Ooh, we could film an outfit TikTok. I’m sure Johnny has a shit ton of clothes somewhere.”

“Have you forgotten both of us are, like, five nine?”

“It’s called safety pinning, Mark.”

+++

Mark wheezed as Hyuck emerged from the room, wearing a striped red shirt and light brown dress pants that were way too long for him. Eh. Not brown, exactly, more like… tan? Speaking of which, what was corduroy? 

“Mark, do you know anything about fashion?”

“Enough to know that whatever that is isn’t.”

Donghyuck carefully scrutinized himself in the mirror. “Yeah, you’re right. The pants make it look too messy. Do you have khakis?”

Ohhhh, so that’s what they were called.

“Um, I think so. Check my closet.”

“Wait, I need to put together something for you to try on.”

Mark paused.

“Ohhhh no, this is for your account. These are you trying on the fashions.”

“Yeah, but you pull some of them off better.”

“I-”

“Come on, Mark. Promise I won’t tease you for the next twelve hours.”

“Fine.”

Donghyuck whooped. “You’re definitely doing the Korean fashion one.”

“Okay, but why is Korean fashion always layering a long trench coat over a turtleneck sweater?”

“That was the exact thing I was gonna make you wear.”

“Thanks.”

Mark flinched as a coat hit him in the face. 

“Cool, I’m going to raid your closet. Be right back!”

+++

“Whoa, new idea.”

“What?”

“Okay, the ‘how asian boys dress according ethnicity’ is overdone-”

“-it is?”

“Mark, let me talk. So, instead of categorizing people and reinforcing stereotypes, let’s do types of clothing! Like, boyfriend aesthetic!”

“So we aren’t going to use the video of me being the koreaboo’s oppar?”

Hyuck laughed. “We are most definitely using that.”

+++

A bang at the door. “Open up, I’m drowning in a sea of clothes!”

“My pants aren’t on!”

“I’m being suffocated!”

Mark stuck his tongue out (knowing full well Donghyuck couldn’t see him) and opened the door, pulling on a pair of dark slacks he found. Donghyuck catapulted himself onto Johnny’s bed, and laid out the slightly wrinkled outfits he had put together.

“Woo!”

Mark gave them the once over. All pretty standard boyfriend outfits. The band t-shirt and blue jeans, the striped black shirt and dark pants, the white shirt and dark pants with a jacket, the lumberjack, the hoodie, the black beanie and black t-shirt layered over a white long-sleeved shirt with ripped jeans and chains, the all-Adidas wear-

Wait.

The black beanie and black t-shirt layered over a white long-sleeved shirt with ripped jeans and chains?

“I’m sorry. An e-boy transformation?”

Donghyuck nodded.

“That is the _single most ridiculous_ thing I have ever heard. Do I look like a depressed curly haired teenager?”

“I mean, yeah. Usually wearing some form of bland athletic clothing, but yeah.”

Mark groaned.

“Please, it’ll be fun! Besides, we have to get through the rest of them, and then put them back.”

“Giving me more time to wonder why I ever befriended you.”

“True, true.”

Mark stretched and tripped over the pant leg.

“Dammit, this is Johnny’s.”

+++

“Why is making a singular TikTok so time consuming?”

“It’s called transitions, Mark.”

+++

Watching Donghyuck do his thing was kind of cute, if Mark was being honest. The way he was so into making the video to entertain a couple of people, how his brow furrowed with concentration, the way his lips parted when he-

_Shit._

No no no no no no no no no no he was NOT catching feelings for his best friend.

Nuh uh.

Nope.

Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooope.

As if on cue, that exact moment, the phrase Renjun has uttered yesterday played through his mind like some demented laugh track in the sitcom of his life.

_You, Lee Minhyung, are painfully, ridiculously, totally gay._

+++

“Are we done?”

“Almost.” Hyuck hung up the last of the outfits in Johnny’s closet, then brushed his hands off. “Now, for the e-boy transformation.”

“I thought you forgot about it,” Mark said.

Hyuck put his hands on his hips. “You really underestimate me like this?”

“No?”

“Great.” Moving around the room and finding the missing pieces of clothing, he gathered them in his arms and shoved the whole pile (quite unceremoniously, if Mark might add) into Mark’s arms. “Once you’re dressed, I’m doing your makeup. Does Johnny even have makeup?”

“Yes. Way too much of it.”

Hyuck nodded sagely. “He knows what to invest in.”

“Are you joking? The new apocalypse is coming.”

“Please, the government is probably just changing the battery on the birds.”

Mark paused. “The what now?”

“It’s a joke, not a dick, so don’t take it too hard.”

“Stop making me choke on tiny things.”

“That’s what she said.”

“Stob it.”

“You set yourself up for all of them, Mark.”

Exiting the room with a dramatic sweep of his arm, Hyuck shut the door.

Mark thought once more about Hyuck, and he laughed aloud in relief. Please! He could never catch feelings for a boy that kept making jokes about such things! Feelings? Stupid. Renjun would have to be wrong just this once.

Right?

Right.

Mark did not have feelings for Hyuck, and they were all joking about Hyuck’s feelings for Mark.

A game. 

They’d move away after high school, Mark living an average suburban life, and Hyuck…

Donghyuck doing whatever he was set out to do.

Destined for bigger and better things. 

They’d find other people, settle down, probably call each other every so often to laugh about how stupid they were when they were young.

Yup.

Definitely.

Wasn’t that all he wanted?

So why, Mark wondered, pulling the t-shirt over his head, why did that feel so empty?

+++

After Mark’s temporary crisis, he headed into the bathroom, where Donghyuck spun around in his chair and cackled wildly.

“I see you have finally arrived. Prepare to die.”

“What?”

“Actually, wash your hands first.”

Mark washed his hands. “What exactly are you going to be doing to me?”

“Calm downnnnn.” Hyuck unscrewed a bottle of black nail polish.

“That did absolutely nothing to alleviate my fears.”

“Sit down and let me work my magic.”

Mark sat down.

“Has anybody told you that your cuticles are fucked up?”

“Uh. No?”

“Your cuticles are fucked up.” Donghyuck took a nail file that was sitting on the counter and pushed the skin back, one by one.

Mark tried not to look.

“Ow!”

“You’re such a baby, I barely touched it.”

“I’m going to give you the silent treatment again.”

“I’m going to start talking to the wall again.”

Mark gritted his teeth. “Just get it over with.”

“It’s finished. Calm yourself.”

As far as Mark could tell, there was no difference, except that the skin looked a lot pinker.

The black nail polish did not compliment him in any way, shape, or form.

Hyuck was painting it on with extreme care and concentration.

His head was bent over, his tongue stuck out slightly, his hair fell in front of his eyes.

Mark directed his gaze to the highly interesting crack in the doorframe.

“Done!”

“With all of it?”

“With your left hand, dumbass. Hold your hand there. Don’t move it. If you move it, you die.”

Hyuck filled up the soap dish with cold water. “Okay, now dip your hand in.”

“What does that do?”

“Well, it’s supposed to make it dry faster, and I’m not adding a top coat. Count to thirty.”

“One… Two… Three…”

“Can you move your right hand?”

Mark nodded. 

“Can you give me your right hand?”

Mark handed the hand over.

“Thank you.”

Mark could feel his palm getting sweaty, which was one of the grossest feelings in the world. Donghyuck was being too nice to comment on it. In a way, it was very meditative. One. Two. Three. The brush touched the side of his finger.

“Shoot, I’m sorry. I’ll clean that up.”

Donghyuck set the brush down and uncapped a bottle with bright pink liquid that immediately filled up the room with a chemical smell.

“Oh, gross.”

“Tell me about it.”

One cotton pad, one splash of nail polish remover, a scream of pain, and the permanent searing of Mark’s nostrils later, the black smear vanished.

“Now it’s just your pinky and ring finger. You can take your left hand out of the water now.”

Mark shook his hand, which felt very numb. That wasn’t ideal.

Hyuck’s hand was warm, but not sweaty, while Mark’s hand was cold and clammy and generally undesirable in terms of hands.

Which led him to the question of why he was comparing hands in the first place.

“Finished! Now dunk it in the water.”

Mark placed his hand in the water and counted to thirty, while Hyuck readjusted his phone.

“Perfect, got that on time lapse. Now for the hair.”

“What?”

“It’s fine, Mark, it’ll take about two seconds.”

Which was true. 

“Why do all e-boys need a middle part?” Mark complained, scrutinizing himself in the mirror. “I look like Chenle.”

“Chenle’s happy. You look depressed.”

“Isn’t that what an e-boy’s supposed to be? Depressed?”

Hyuck said nothing, but uncapped another thing, which looked kind of like a pen.

“Don’t tell me you’re drawing hearts on me.”

“It’s one eyeliner heart, not the end of the world. Besides, I vetoed the full makeup, so you should be thanking me.”

Mark stopped breathing as Hyuck carefully drew on the heart, his fingers raising Mark’s head while he invaded the personal space bubble. Mark could feel his breath, and was hyper aware of how similar this was to Yuta, but how this felt entirely different from having Yuta doing his makeup. He was totally going to die and end up in hell, and he wouldn’t even complain. Death from conventionally attractive boy was one of the best ways to go. 

Donghyuck had his earring in again. Where did he find his earring? 

His thumb brushed against Mark’s face, and Mark lost his bearings.

Hyuck leaned back, pursed his lips, and leaned in again. “You look too nice to be an e-boy.”

“Can’t we use filters to fix that?”

“Mark, you’ll learn that filters can’t fix anything in life.”

Donghyuck moved his chair back. “Tilt your head up a little. Not bad. Side view. Eye rape the camera.”

Mark spluttered in exasperation. “How do I do that?!”

“Unleash your inner IT. Oh, ew, Mark, not like that.”

“Thanks.”

“You know what, let’s not eye rape the camera. Where are the chains?”

“In the bedroom. Somewhere.”

“I’ll go get them,” Donghyuck said, rising from his stool. “Stay here. Don’t touch anything.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

The door swung open a few minutes later. It seemed like Hyuck had gone and found every chain in the house, although upon further inspection, it was only three.  
“Nothing too extreme. One chain on your belt, two around your neck. Then we should be ready to go. I cannot believe Johnny doesn’t have any beanies.”

“What do you mean? He has a drawer full of them.”

“You don’t need a beanie. It’s perfect.”

Mark paused.

“Come on, then,” Hyuck said, picking his phone up. “Time to have a fashion show.”

+++

“Look in the mirror and act depressed. Good, good!”

Mark felt stupid.

“Take your hand and smush your face slightly.”

Mark complied.

“Try sticking your tongue out.” Hyuck whacked his head. “No, not like that, you’re not a damn lizard.”

Mark resisted the urge to scream.

“Put your earbuds in.”

Mark sighed.

“See! That was good! That was acting! That was sad and desolate in a cruel world! Now, do it again, just with the earbuds in.”

“I’m going to start laughing and I’ll break the facade,” Mark warned.

Donghyuck nodded. “That’s the spirit! We’re almost done, anyways.”

“Thank God.”

“Now twirl around and show the camera how pretty you are.”

Mark froze.

“I’m joking, Mark, I’m joking.”

Mark stopped, and Hyuck set down his phone. “I’ve got to say, this is probably one of the most extreme transformations I’ve seen anyone go through.”

“Good or bad?”

“The jury’s still out on that one.”

“What time is it?”

“Almost five. Johnny should be coming home soon, which means we can cook dinner. And then I’ll bounce.”

“Aren’t you supposed to stay in one place?”

“Mark, do you have coronavirus?”

“I had some decently bad food poisoning last night.”

“True. I didn’t know you wanted me to stay with you guys.”

“I don’t.”

Donghyuck looked attacked.

“I just don’t want you to die.”

“Aw, Mark. That’s one of the sweetest things I’ve ever heard. I’m not planning on dying yet. Come on, let’s go back downstairs.” Hyuck opened the door and bowed. “Princess.”

Mark shoved Donghyuck’s head and stalked past in what he thought was an extremely haughty manner. “Peasant.” 

“I deserved that.”

“You did.”

“Stop laughing.”

“No.”  
+++

“Am I supposed to be crying this much?” Mark asked, wiping away a tear that welled up.

Hyuck stared over the counter, up from the carrots he was grating into tiny shreds.

“Well, Mark, you’re cutting onions. You tell me.”

Mark didn’t respond, too overwhelmed by the tears falling down his face.

“You’re also cutting them wrong.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“It wasn’t supposed to.”

Donghyuck continued to watch as Mark struggled through cutting the onions.

“Disappointment!” he yelled, throwing his hands up into the air.

Stalking over to Mark’s side of the counter, he covered Mark’s hand and cut a couple of times, like how a parent would for a child. 

_Unnecessary contact._

“See? Now you try it.”

Mark tried cutting it again. 

“Not quite there. But better.”

“Wonderful. I’m putting that on my college application.”

“Credentials: can cut an onion,” Donghyuck deadpanned, not looking up from the cucumber he was now slicing. “That’s sure to set your application apart from the thousands of other students.”

“Lots of people can’t cook!”

“Shit, I’ve got to check up on the beef.”

Donghyuck ran around to the pan and opened it. A loud pop of oil and a quick stir, and Hyuck ran back. “It’s almost done, finish up with the onions.”

“I’m done.”

“Well, what are you doing standing around? Add the onions in!”

Mark carefully undid the lid and scraped in the onions, then covered it back up.

“Where’d you put the bean sprouts?!”

“They’re right there! Cooking isn’t supposed to be this stressful!”

“Are you joking! It’s incredibly stressful! I love it! Get out another pan, will you?”

Mark opened up the cabinet underneath the stove and pulled out a medium (at least he thought it was medium?) sized skillet.

The spinach was already done, sitting in a bowl beside the stove, and Donghyuck tossed in a couple of handfuls of bean sprouts, before rolling up the bag and putting it back in the fridge.

“Aren’t we supposed to measure it?” Mark asked.

“How whitewashed are you?” Hyuck shot back.

“Very.”

“Figures. Get three eggs out, I think I heard the garage door opening. Oh, and the gochujang.”

“The gochuwhatnow?”

“The red pepper paste in that weird brown box.”

“Oh. Yeah, that thing.”

The door swung open, and Johnny yelled, “Ma-ark, where are- oh, hey, Donghyuck.”

“Hello again, my worst enemy.”

“Mark, what happened to you?”

Mark looked down at his clothes. “TikTok things.”

“I already posted it. Go like it.”

“I’m going to change. Thank God I can finally work from home.”

Mark sighed. “You’re working from home?”

Johnny performed a jaunty two-fingered salute and clicked his tongue. “Yup. Is that bibimbap?”

“Yeehaw, my good sir. Come on, Markeu, I need the eggs.”

Mark handed the eggs over.

Donghyuck dumped the bean sprouts into another bowl and cracked the eggs in. 

Impressive.

“Three bowls, Mark.”

“I’m on it.” Mark jumped and grabbed three bowls off of the top shelf in the cupboard, before landing with a clatter on the floor.

“Get up, you big baby.” Hyuck said, not even batting an eye.

“Thanks.”

“Go fill the bowls up with rice.”

+++

“This is good. Really good.” Johnny said. “Tastes like the bibimbap grandma used to make.”

“Grandma didn’t make us bibimbap in this style.”

“It’s the _je ne sais quoi_ , the feeling, the seizing of the opportunity.”

“How stupid are you?” Mark asked. “I don’t even take French and I know that’s wrong. Besides, seizing the opportunity is _carpe diem_. And it’s Latin.”

“I’m complimenting the food. The food tastes good. Please stop overanalyzing everything I say.”

Mark ate another bite of rice. “Well, maybe if you weren’t always this-”

“-Anything tastes good to you,” Donghyuck interrupted. “Seeing as you guys don’t know how to make food.”

“I can, too!” Mark protested.

“We make plenty of food for ourselves!”

“Like what?”

Mark and Johnny exchanged panicked eye contact. 

“Uh…”

“Like, sandwiches.”

“Pasta.”

“Kimchi with rice.”

“Vegetables.”

“More sandwiches?”

“So, your parents are constantly overseas for business, you guys basically live in a mansion by yourselves three hundred out of the three hundred sixty five days in a year, and neither of you can cook for shit.”

“It’s not a mansion.” Mark argued.

“It’s a fucking mansion,” Johnny said, leaning back in his chair.

“Fine, we live in a ‘fucking mansion’.” Mark made air quotes with his hands before clapping them over his mouth. “I JUST SWORE-”

Johnny started laughing obnoxiously.

“I am done with all of you.”

“Bye, Mark.” Donghyuck waved. “Come back in about five seconds.”

Mark sat back down.

“Well, we have a few hours left.” Johnny pointed out. “Karaoke, anyone?”

“I need to go, my sister’s probably on the verge of killing the twins.” Hyuck stood up and pushed his chair in. “It’s been great, you two. Do your dishes. Find some recipes online. Don’t die”

“Oh, yeah. Mark, go help him collect his stuff.”

“You’re not the boss of me, Johnny.”

“Damn straight I’m not. I am, however, several years older, several inches taller, several degrees more educated, and several metric tons heavier, so it would be the best for you to listen to me.”

Mark couldn’t argue with that logic.

+++

“Have you seen my shirt?” Donghyuck asked, as soon as Mark stepped into the room.

“Which one?”

“My pajamas, Mark. I need to take them home and wash them.”

“Why do you have your home life so organized, and then your school life in shambles?”

“It’s easier for me. I don’t know, Mark, why are you so great in academics and have a mental breakdown every other day?”

“Yeah, I have no clue.”

“Exactly.” Hyuck tossed in the shirt Mark handed him, zipped up his backpack, and ended the conversation.

A brief pause for awkward silence.

“So, uh, what’s going on with you?”

“Same old. Same old.” 

They headed down the stairs, Mark running through what possible small talk he could go through to not end the night on such a weird feeling.

“Sorry for making you come over.”

Hyuck shrugged. “It’s okay. You took care of me, too.”

“Not really.”

“You also look really good in the e-boy dress, I should’ve made you do it years ago.”

“I feel stupid.”

“Mark Lee, take the damn compliment.”

“Thanks.”

Hyuck smiled at him and pulled on his Vans. “This was fun. We should do it again sometimes.”

Blank.

Blank.

Blank.

Blank.

Error 404, Mark Lee’s brain has not been found.

“Hhhhhh- yes! Yeah. Um, cool. Totally. When this whole thing is over. Thank you. Yes. Bye.”

“Yeah, bye.”

Donghyuck headed out, and Mark held the door open. 

_I’m so stupid oh my god oh my god oh my god why did I just feel things when he smiled at me please help oh my god oh my god ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh_

He heard a distant shouting over the engine.

“What?!”

“CLOSE- DOOR- TOO- COLD-”

Mark smiled and closed the door.

Then he screamed.

+++

Sitting on the couch later that night, trying to focus on his textbook while Johnny click-clacked his way through a bunch of emails, he spoke up.

“Johnny?”

His brother glanced up. “Hmm?”

“When. Uh, when did you know you liked Ten?”

“Just kind of… did, you know? Third month of the new job, out for lunch, and then this boy walks in by himself. And he’s hot.”

Mark groaned. “That doesn’t help, Johnny. Don’t you have some longer, more childhood relationships? Like, did you ever question your relationship with Yuta, or- or something?”

Johnny cocked his head thoughtfully.

“Doyoung. I definitely had a crush on Doyoung sophomore year.”

“WHAT?!”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot you were like, eight.”

“You liked Doyoung?”

“Are you judging my taste in men?”

“No, but he’s all… tall, and intimidating, and perfect. And he looks like a bunny. He’s like Renjun. If Renjun were tall. Wasn’t he valedictorian?”

“Salutatorian. He was ready to kill somebody. That somebody being the valedictorian.”

Mark snorted. “I can see that happening.”

“Thank God Taeil talked him out of it. It would’ve been violent.”

“Blood splattered across the stage. People dying. Doyoung trying to give the end of the year speech standing on somebody’s head.”

“...Mark?”

“What?”

“Can you change out of the e-boy getup? I don’t feel safe anymore.”

+++

Mark stared up at his ceiling.

The room felt empty with Donghyuck in it.

He had gotten the nail polish off, and returned Johnny’s chains, and was in bed at nine thirty, which meant he was going to be staying up until two am reconsidering his life choices.

“But do I?” he wondered aloud. “Do I like him? As more than a friend?”

Mark was pretty sure he wasn’t straight anymore, but he felt like that should’ve been obvious. He was hopeless.

Was there anyone he could call?

Dr. Phil?

Ha, as if. Imagine that. Ridiculous.

Nope. 

There was no possible way.

Where was Renjun when you needed him?

_**aaaaaargh** _

What were the good qualities?

He was dependable, funny, and full of surprises. He had a cute nose. He was good at singing. He liked teasing Mark, and Mark didn’t even mind.

He was sunshine.

Mark didn’t overthink as much. He felt safe. He made a house feel like home.

Now that was cheesy.

Not wanting to dwell on that any longer, he pulled out his phone.

TikTok.

How was it that he didn’t know the app existed a couple of months ago?

He checked his own profile- another thousand followers, that was scary -and clicked on the one “Haechan” had tagged him in.

He then cringed his way through his next three minutes of existence. 

Mark looked grotesque. Like… disfigured gargoyle grotesque. 

Obviously, the people in the comments disagreed, all “OMG Y’ALL HOT” “Ahhhh they kind of look like Jin 👉👈” “THOSE CLOTHES THOUGH”

Ugh. People were so frivolous.

Mark opened his keyboard and typed in, “Wow, we look tragic.”

Less than a minute later, a pop up informed him he had been liked by the creator.

Okay, that should not have sent butterflies haywire throughout his body.

He scrolled down, then shrieked when he saw the time-lapse of his nails being down. The caption read “idk guys i think lil huddy has competition #makeover#fypage#eboy”

The first comment:

“Call me FedEx, because I ship it.”

_Liked by the creator._

Mark shrieked and chucked his phone across the room like it was a live bomb. That was enough internet for the day, kids.

+++

11:29 PM

Mark was wondering when he first realized Hyuck was cute.

+++

12:06 AM

Mark wondered what qualities could possibly make him attractive.

+++

12:42 AM

Mark pulled up his deep thoughts playlist.

+++

1:02 AM

Mark cussed like a sailor after stubbing his toe.

+++

1:04 AM

Mark shut off the deep thought playlist.

+++

1:13 AM

Mark felt cold.

+++

1:27 AM

Mark wondered why he was so cold.

+++

1:30 AM

Mark realized it was because he hadn’t covered his feet.

+++

1:31 AM

Mark had an irrational thought of whether the monster under his bed was going to eat him.

+++

1:43 AM

Mark decided to stop checking the clock.

+++

Sometime between 1:50 AM and 2:45 AM

Mark slept.

+++

2:54 AM

Mark woke up.

+++

2:57 AM

Mark got out of bed.

+++

3:02 AM

Mark walked out of his room.

+++

3:02 AM, cont.

Mark stood in front of Johnny’s door.

+++

“JOHNNY.” He pushed the door open and it crashed with a bang.

His brother sat up in his bed, hair sticking straight up. “Mark,” he said, calmly and composedly and very tiredly. “Mark, what the actual fuck?”

“I think I like Donghyuck.”

Mark dodged the pillow Johnny threw at him.

“Great. Fuck you.”

“No, I think I like like him.”

“And you felt the need to wake me up at three am to tell me what I’ve known for the past five years? Demon spawn.”

“Oh.” Mark stepped away. “Sorry.”

“Close the goddamn door behind you.”

Mark closed the door.

“I like Lee Donghyuck.”

_And he might like me back._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and stay safe. :)


	5. Day 4 (and a few more): Many, Many Mistakes Are Made ft. That Squirrel Mark Almost Runs Over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my lovely 10sers. As you may have noticed, this timeline does not add up. The Old Navy holiday advertisement was around November of last year, and I originally intended for this to end on the Lunar New Year as a one shot. Although if you’re reading my shit, you probably don’t have the brain capacity to actually think about the way this timeline expands. No offense or anything. Anyways, any plot holes and/or inconsistencies are entirely myself (i.e., Mark’s glasses and his multiple crises involving the glasses) so I’d like to apologize for that right now. I’ve also belatedly realized that sometimes I do family name first name and other times I use first name last name. My inconsistency is spicy. Enjoy this next chapter, as this whole situation comes to a close!

After Mark’s life-changing revelation that he liked his childhood-best-friend-and-also-god-sibling, you’d think they’d talk about it.

Nope.

Mark was too much of a coward to reach out, so for two days, he did nothing but study and complete homework and binge watch Naruto.

Shut up, he knows it’s a problem.

No, he’s not an otaku.

Shut up.

+++

Thursday night had him freaking out when his phone got a text, but it turned out that the ultimate Mario Kart tournament had been cancelled in favor of an Animal Crossing zoom party.

The entire group was Hendery’s friends, who Mark wasn’t-exactly-friends with. Lucas seemed nice enough, but he was loud. Mark also couldn’t stop laughing when he said things, so that was something. Xiaojun was Xiaojun, his tutoring session having been cancelled, while Hendery kept on annoying him. Truly, a crush at its finest, because Xiaojun was oblivious to it. Renjun was there, but he basically said nothing and glared daggers, and when Lucas and Xiaojun started arguing in Cantonese, he left. Hendery said some choice words about Yangyang not showing up, Lucas just wanted another island, Xiaojun’s switch died halfway through, and Mark fished for a solid thirty minutes without getting anything worthwhile. Lucas suggested a game of online Uno, which was met with two large “NO”s from Xiaojun and Hendery, and Mark was cackling too hard to form a response.

All in all, it was a pretty successful waste of time.

+++

Friday morning was when it all changed. Well, technically at four am, when his phone started ringing. Mark grabbed at his phone, where the caller ID read “Dolphin Boy”. Mark had no clue why Chenle would be calling him at such a time, but it had to be important.

“Hello?”

“Mark?” someone asked, who was most definitely not Chenle.

Mark waited for a second. “Sorry, Jisung? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Chenle isn’t. Can you talk to him?”

This was new. Mark shrugged, then realized neither of them could see him. “Uh, yeah, what’s up? Chenle? You good?”

Silence on the other end.

“Hi, Mark.” Chenle’s voice was further away. “Are you safe?”

Mark did a once-over of his room. “I think so?”

“That’s good.”

“Is that all?”

Chenle took a deep breath. “Mark, do you ever do things you regret?”

“Oh yeah, all the time.” Mark paused. “Hold up, what did you do?”

Jisung’s voice chimed in. “We’re wondering how to get a plastic basketball hoop off of a person’s head.”

“You’re wHAT NOW?!”

“Stop, it was an honest mistake!” Chenle protested. “And Jisung, you said you weren’t going to tell!”

“From the way you were wording it, it made us sound like serial killers!”

“‘oH, i’M fiNe, ChEnLe isN’T!’”

“Both of you have to shut up for a hot second!” Mark screeched. 

“One sriracha, two sriracha, three-”

“Chenle, let him think,” Jisung’s voice said tiredly. “Wait! No, don’t pout. Stop it.”

“You should’ve thought about the consequences your actions held before being mean to me.” 

“I don’t know, cut it off! Cut it all off!” Mark pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I like the basketball hoop, Jeno gave it to me for my fifteenth birthday.”

“Then why’d you force your head through it?” Mark asked.

A long pause. Jisung sighed. “I bet him he couldn’t do it.” 

“I can’t even deal with you two anymore. You can’t get it stuck over your head at a decent hour?”

“It’s because you’re the least scary!”

“Wait, where are you guys?”

“I’m with Chenle.”  
Mark’s eyes widened. “What are you doing with Chenle at four am?”

Mark heard some scuffling noises before Chenle’s voice piped up. “No~othing.”

“I don’t trust that at all.”

“Nothing other than getting this stupid hoop stuck over my head.”

“Doesn’t matter whether or not you trust us, we just need you to tell us how to get this thing off,” Jisung said.

“Please,” Chenle added. “It’s almost two hours now, and my circulation is being cut off.”

“Have you tried disassembling it? You know. With a screwdriver?”

A beat.

“Ohhhhhhh,” they said in unison.

“Ha, jinx!” Chenle shouted.

Mark cringed and turned down the volume on his phone.

“That’s not fair!” Jisung shot back.

“Well, it’s not like you can owe me anything. There’s nothing here anyways.”

Mark paused. Something about this didn’t add up. 

“Don’t tell me you two got the basketball hoop stuck over his head in the woods between your house.”

“We won’t not tell you that.” Jisung replied.

Mark banged his head against his headboard.

“Was that on purpose?” Chenle asked. 

“No, of course it wasn’t!”

Mark grabbed his phone and stood up. “Whatever. I’m getting up.”

“It’s only four forty seven.” Chenle said.

“Don’t remind me.”

“It’s only four forty eight.”

“I’m going to drive over to your house and personally snap your puny little neck.”

“Good luck fitting your puny chicken hands around the basketball hoop.” Chenle laughed, and then stopped.

“Why’d you stop laughing?”

Chenle coughed. “Jisung found the screwdriver and he’s way too close.”

Mark blinked.

“This is surprisingly kinky. No wonder Hy- no wonder.” Chenle, for once, miraculously shut up.

“Hyuck? Donghyuck?”

“Hmm?” Jisung responded.

“Did Donghyuck put you two up to this?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“Actually, check your front door.” 

“What?”

“Okay, bye~”

“Wait! You ca-!”

_Beep._

Apparently they could.

Mark shook his head and squinted at the front door. Nothing he could make out. Then again, the outside was pitch black.

He had a sudden mental image of Donghyuck laughing and calling him dumbass.

Gah, he needed to figure out their relationship now.

He flicked on the porch light, where an aluminum foil-wrapped plate sat. A yellow sticky note was carefully taped on the top.

Mark opened the door, whereupon a blast of cold air hit him. He grabbed the plate and slammed the door shut, then held his breath, praying Johnny hadn’t heard him.

Nothing.

Thank God.

The plate had a slight chip on the left side, and had the faintest trace of warmth clinging to it, the scent of cinnamon and sugar unmistakable.

Mark set the plate down and read the note.

_Dear Mark,_

_Happy Friday. My sister made a shit ton of sticky buns last night, and I helped with the filling, so I stole twelve of them. Hopefully you and Johnny haven’t starved yet. Today’s going to be one to remember._

_Hyuck ☼_

Wow. That was surprisingly sweet.

He tried to rationalize himself, before realizing he was grinning from ear to ear like the biggest idiot. He flipped the note over.

_P.S. Don’t try hiding that smile, dumbass._

Oh, yeah. Mark was fucking doomed.

+++

Johnny came downstairs around seven, wearing a bathrobe, boxers, and bunny slippers. And nothing else.

“Can you put on a pair of pants?” Mark asked, circling his final answer and flipping his sheet of scrap paper. His sticky bun was half finished, placed carefully on a napkin, and pushed off to the side. It was delicious, just too sweet for his liking.

Johnny let out a grunt-heave kind of situation and swiped his coffee mug off of the counter, dumping the contents into the sink and turning on the machine.

It whirred to life. “Eh. We’re all men here, anyways.”

Mark sighed. “Please put on pants.”

“I refuse to change until after ten. I’m protesting my boss.”

“Why?”

“She scheduled meetings from ten thirty to six pm, periodically. We’ve been having meetings before that, but she decides to host meetings with every branch of the company? I’m in HR! I don’t need to sit with the computer scientists and listen to their data plotting!”

“Have you ever wondered if it’s because she’s planning to move you? You’re overqualified for the HR job, especially because you’ve gotten your degree now.”

“Fat load of good it’s done for me,” Johnny scoffed, gently shaking the cup that’s supposed to be holding the espresso. “Oh, please don’t be jammed.”

“It’s probably not, it just takes time.”

“I will personally track down your maker and destroy him,” Johnny hissed, clearly not listening to Mark.

“Are you seriously talking to the espresso machine?” Mark asked. “Where are the grounds?”

Johnny inhaled. “Yes, grounds would be good, wouldn’t they.” 

He walked into the pantry, closed the door, and didn’t come out for another ten minutes.

Just when Mark was starting to have mild concern, Johnny exited from the closet, looking a lot more composed and holding the coffee beans.

“Right, where were we? Espresso? Do you want some?”

Mark shook his head. “I don’t think it’s safe. We want one semi-sane person in this household.”

“By the way, I wholeheartedly approve of you and Hyuck. Bring him over again.”

Mark’s head shot up. “What?!”

“Coffee,” Johnny muttered. “Why won’t this damn machine work?”

+++

Mark checked his phone, because it was nearly ten, and the group chat would usually be blowing up around this time.

Nothing.

Scrolling through his last few conversations, he realized that he was no longer in the group chat.

Jaemin had actually removed him.

The audacity of some people.

 **Mark:** Seriously?

 **Mark:** You _removed_ me?

 **Mark:** How immature are you?

 **NaNa:** took you long enough to notice

 **NaNa:** butt

 **NaNa:** i remember saying u had to go out w/ hyuckie be4 i added u bacc

 **NaNa:** yw

 **Mark:** Yodeling whales?

 **Mark:** Yeeting watermelons?

 **Mark:** Young WeonardoDiCaprio??

 **NaNa:** do not tempt me with young leo i am faithful to jeno

 **NaNa:** that is to say.. if young leo shows up on my doorstep tonight i totally definitely will not break up with jeno over facetime

 **Mark:** Screenshotted, thank you!

 **NaNa:** nO PLEASE iLL DO ANYFING

**NaNa: MARK LEE DO NOT**

**NaNa: i will find you and i will kill u**

**NaNa:** **😊**

 **NaNa:** no not that goddammit apple

 **NaNa:** **😃**

 **NaNa:** fuck

**NaNa: :)**

**NaNa:** finally

 **Mark:** Were you still talking?

 **Mark:** Whoops.

**NaNa: IM GONNA CHOP YOUR DICK OFF WITH A MEAT CLEAVER, GRIND IT IN A FOOD PROCESSOR, AND FEED IT TO THE GOAT’S ON MY AUNTS FARM**

**Mark:** And you’ll do it all single.

 **Mark:** :D

 ** _No Jams_** _has created a chat_

 **_No Jams_ ** _has added Mark Lee and The Bitch That Cheated On Me With Young Leo_

 **_No Jams_ ** _has named the chat_ **_I’m Breaking Up with You, Jaemin Na_ **

**No Jams:** What the chat name says

 **No Jams:** I am going to go find Zendaya now

 **No Jams:** Don’t keep up

 **No Jams:** I thought you were bae, turns out you’re just fam

 **_No Jams_ ** _has left the chat_

 **NaNa:** what the fuck mark

 **Mark:** Add me back to the group chat.

 **NaNa:** like hell i am

 **NaNa:** a seven year long relationship ruined in five minutes

 **Mark:** It’s your own fault for thirsting over Leonardo DiCaprio.

 **NaNa:** ask any person if they liked young leo 99% of the population will say yes the other 1% need to be killed off

 **NaNa:** it’s like a thing _everyone_ is a simp for young leo and zendaya 

**Mark:** Not me??

 **NaNa:** because you’r not normal

 **Mark:** That was almost the correct version of “your/you’re”. 

**Mark:** You’re doing amazing, sweetie.

 **NaNa:** the shit i sacrifice for you and hyuck

 **NaNa:** this has got to be worth all the food im gonna have to ply jeno with

 **Mark:** Could you possibly elaborate on that?

 **_NaNa_ ** _has left the chat_

 **Mark:** Am I seriously alone again?

 **_Mark Lee_ ** _has left the chat_

_Chat deleted_

+++

It wasn’t even eleven yet.

Waking up early was such a pain in the ass. He didn’t dare wake up Renjun for life advice again, because they had clearly defined their friendship, as in, Renjun will be there for you except the hours of four to one on weekends and breaks because that shit is between you and God or a higher being.

At the rate this was going, he’d end up talking to Xiaojun about his life choices at three pm.

Mark concluded that he didn’t have enough friends, and the friends that he did have were all coupled up, (or, in the case of Jeno and Jaemin, freshly broken up) which made it that much more annoying to deal with them.

Would it be okay to call Yuta?

Actually, he didn’t want to risk it.

He opened up to TV and opened Crunchyroll, and stared listlessly at the screen, wondering if he should go against his moral code and watch Food Wars. The animation was good, the art style was sort of cliché but good, the colors were bright enough that his sleep deprived eyes were burned- and then less than three minutes in a girl _moaned_ over the audio system and Mark scrambled to the remote to shut it off.

“What,” he gasped, “was that.”

His phone pinged.

 **Annoying:** If you’re going to watch hentai on the tv at least turn down the volume

 **Annoying:** loser

 **Annoying:** My paycheck gets deducted we both get evicted

 **Mark:** I am _sorry_ it was Food Wars.

 **Annoying:** Yeah I know you are watching hentai go get off in your room

 **Mark:** Shut up.

 **Annoying:** I’m not the one watching softcore animated porn 

**Mark:** I hate it here.

+++

The microwave beeped once. It beeped twice. Mark smelt something burning, and dashed into the kitchen, coughing as a cloud of smoke enveloped his head, like a mother’s gentle embrace. The smoke alarm went off.

Johnny dashed out of the office in a panic, his phone muted.

“What the fuck, Mark?”

“I tried making Kraft Mac and Cheese.”

Johnny coughed as a waft of plastic scented air drifted by. “Did you put in enough water?”

“I think so?”

He made his way to the microwave and grabbed the cup, wincing as it burned his fingers. “Then why, pray tell, is the mac and cheese blackened to the bottom?”

“Not exactly sure.”

Johnny tossed the cup in the trash. “Eat a peanut butter sandwich, or something. I need to go back.”

The smoke alarm beeped again and Mark opened the windows. 

Twelve thirty.

Was Hendery up yet?

+++

 **Mark:** Hendery.

 **Mark:** Are you up?

 **Hendairy for the Lactose Intolerant:** No

 **Hendairy for the Lactose Intolerant:** Why do u text like that

 **Mark:** Why does everyone attack me for my texting?

 **Hendairy for the Lactose Intolerant:** It’s unsettling

 **Mark:** Shut up.

 **Mark:** How are things with Xiaojun?

 **Hendairy for the Lactose Intolerant:** Why bother to ask

 **Hendairy for the Lactose Intolerant:** same old same old

 **Hendairy for the Lactose Intolerant:** I make a move he blows me off and I cry into my pillow broken hearted

 **Mark:** You know, you should really do something about that.

 **Hendairy for the Lactose Intolerant:** Yeah like I don’t know what already lmfaoooo

 **Mark:** That is the saddest limbo I have ever seen.

 **Mark:** *lmfao

 **Hendairy for the Lactose Intolerant:** Not as sad as lmfao autocorrect to limbo because u don’t use slang

 **Mark:** Have you ever considered the fact that Xiaojun’s not intentionally blowing you off, he’s just really thickheaded?

 **Hendairy for the Lactose Intolerant:** He’s blowing me off all right

 **Hendairy for the Lactose Intolerant:** I adked him for a date a few weeks back and he was like ‘It’s the sixteenth’ like bitch I didn’t mean the time I meant u me going out somewhere and possibly kissing

 **Mark:** Yeah.

 **Mark:** While we’re on the topic of both of us being hopelessly in like-love with our best friends.

 **Hendairy for the Lactose Intolerant:** *spit takes*

 **Hendairy for the Lactose Intolerant:** WHAT

 **Mark:** Oh, I forgot I didn’t tell you.

 **Hendairy for the Lactose Intolerant:** We were on Zoom for a good six hours last night and u didn’t tell me??

 **Hendairy for the Lactose Intolerant:** Damn u to tarnation and back Mark Lee

 **Hendairy for the Lactose Intolerant:** But like tell me everything

 **Mark:** What is there to tell?

 **Mark:** I like him.

 **Mark:** Took me a whole eighteen years.

 **Hendairy for the Lactose Intolerant:** Ur even denser than Xiaojun what the hell why r all my friends clueless straights in denial

 **Mark:** We’re friends?

 **Hendairy for the Lactose Intolerant:** Yes

 **Hendairy for the Lactose Intolerant:** My god ur hopeless

 **Hendairy for the Lactose Intolerant:** If only there was somebody up there that hosted a divine intervention and let me have a happily ever after

 **Hendairy for the Lactose Intolerant:** And clear up whatever sexual tension there is between you and Donghyuck

 **Mark:** I don’t like him like that.

 **Mark:** Please don’t make it any weirder than it already is.

 **_Hendairy for the Lactose Intolerant_ ** _would like to FaceTime_

_Call accepted_

“So what is it? Do you like him?” Hendery asked, then immediately rolled off his bed. Mark would be worried, but Hendery had a full sized bean bag, so he would probably be fine. Key word _probably._

“Yes, I like him. Duh. I just told you,” Mark shot back, getting up from his seat so he could pace around his room.

Hendery paused his screen. “Okay, so everyone knows that Hyuck has a crush on you, since, like, for-god-freaking ever, and you like him back, so invite him over or something??”

Mark groaned. “That’s the thing. I have no clue how to.”

“You’re seriously hopeless.”

“On top of that, my entire friend group has been weird as fuck today, and Donghyuck dropped off a plate of baked goods this morning at four am.”

Hendery whistled. “Four am? That’s dedication right there.”

“Yes, but this doesn’t explain why Jaemin and Chenle and Jisung and even Johnny have been mentioning Hyuck.”

Silence from Hendery’s end. 

“Hello?”

“Uh, yeah, Mark. Remember when I called Xiaojun thickheaded?”

“I mean, why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you’re twelve times worse. It’s obvious they’re working together because Donghyuck has set some kind of surprise up for you.”

Mark blinked. “Hahahahhahaha okay.”

“No, I’m serious!”

“Yeah, what’s next, Renjun’s little green alien friends are real?”

“I can’t believe I’m wasting breath on this conversation. Hell, let me go text Donghyuck.”

Mark hears the clicking noises of Hendery’s keyboard.

“Hey… Hyuck are… you setting something… up? for... Mark??”

An immediate response.

“He says ‘Yeah but don’t tell Mark’.”

Mark squinted. “You’re lying.”

“And what if I am not?”

“Then I scream, because I have nothing decent to wear.”

Hendery laughed. “Dear God. You really are a mess.”

“Because I don’t know how to confess to a boy I’ve known my entire life.”

“‘Ay you kinda hot papi, wanna fuck?’”

Once Mark was able to breathe again, he wheezed out, “This is why you’re single.”

“Low blow, Mark.”

Mark banged his toe against the wall. “Ow! Well, I’m sorry. I’m just all over the place.”

“Still waiting for him to text you back?”

“...no, since I haven’t actually texted him yet.”

“What are you waiting for?! Text him!”

“You sound like a fangirl.” Mark turned, and kept pacing his room.

“My own life is boring. This is entertaining.”

“I’m not texting him.”

Hendery screeched. “Must I be the matchmaker for everything?”

“No. Please don’t. Ever.”

“Fine, Mark. If you’re going to be a big idiot, help me with Mr. Xiao De Jun.”

Mark laughed. “What’s so hard about it? He’s Xiaojun. Your best friend. Just tell him you like him, and that when you mean on a date, you’re asking him out.”

“Gee, Mark!” Hendery exclaimed, voice taking a dangerously sarcastic tone. “That’s so easy! I can’t believe I haven’t thought of it before! Ingenious! Why don’t you try it with Donghyuck?”

“Touche.”

“Wait, what time is it?”

“You have a phone, use it.”

“It’s one?! Already! Shit, my psychology essay!”

“Essay?”

“It’s a thousand words, I have six hundred done. If worst comes to worst I’ll plagiarize it.”

“You are… an absolutely atrocious student.”

“Oh, I know.”

Mark heard somebody yelling.

“Sorry, sister numero dos is having a breakdown, gotta go! It should be around two. You have forty minutes, go outside or something.”

+++

Mark had not taken Hendery’s advice. It was one fifty two, he was staring blankly at the phone on his nightstand, and he had not moved for the past thirty odd minutes.

Then it happened.

His phone buzzed, he lunged towards it, and then froze, unsure whether to pick it up or not. Then the pop-up notification informed him, yes, indeed, it was Donghyuck.

His hand trembled. This was horrible.

He swiped up.

 **Hyuck:** movie?

 **Mark:** When?

Good job, Mark. That was somewhat normal, right? Chill?

 **Hyuck:** today, dumbass

Strike that, that was not cool.

 **Mark:** *What time, and what kind?

 **Hyuck:** uh… six? idk it doesn’t matter my family loves you

 **Hyuck:** lowkey it’s sad

 **Hyuck:** no clue we’ll find something

 **Hyuck:** don’t really want to see anything after disney finna took down love simon

 **Hyuck:** this is for disney you big, fat, white, nasty-smelling fat bitch why you took love simon off the motherfuckin’ schedule with your trifflin’, dirty, white, racist ass, you big, fat bitch oompa loompa body-ass bitch i’m coming up there and i’m gonna beat the fuck out of you, bitch and don’t even call the police today ’cause i’m gonna come up there unexpected and wait on your motherfuckin’ ass bitch

 **Mark:** Did you just have that saved?

 **Hyuck:** duh

 **Hyuck:** you know i’d make fun of the other couples in the theater

 **Hyuck:** but, quarantine

 **Hyuck:** this is homophobia

Couples? _Couples?_ **_Was he reading too much into this?_ **

Alex, I’ll take _what-the-fuck_ for two hundred.

 **Mark:** Ugh.

Right, better to pretend nothing had changed. It was laughable, really, how much of a mess he was.

 **Mark:** Fine, when are you coming over?

...Johnny had told him to invite Hyuck back. This could work.

 **Hyuck:** i’m inviting you to my house

 **Hyuck:** i’m like positive i explicitly stated you would be coming over

 **Hyuck:** oh wait shit i didn’t sorry

Strike that.

 **Mark:** What about your parents and siblings?

 **Hyuck:** the rats are not invited

 **Hyuck:** also as said above my family loves you

 **Hyuck:** little bitches

 **Mark:** I feel like you should have more respect for your parents.

 **Mark:** You know, life givers and all that jazz.

 **Hyuck:** didn’t even ask if i wanted to be birthed

 **Hyuck:** a crime against me really

 **Hyuck:** i’m suing them when i turn eighteen

Mark paused. He couldn’t tell whether Donghyuck was joking or not.

 **Mark:** Okay, I’m coming.

 **Hyuck:** that’s what she said

 **Mark:** Wait, do you want me to come now or like actually at six?

 **Hyuck:** you see i’m bored in a house and i’m in a house bored of course you should come over

 **Mark:** Is this breaking quarantine?

 **Mark:** Are we going to get arrested?

 **Mark:** Donghyuck?

 **Mark:** Hyuck??

 **Mark:** Hello???

_read 2:17_

Mark shut off his phone and pocketed it, and then made his way downstairs. Johnny was still in a meeting, so he wrote a note.

He grabbed the keys from the rack and paused.

Whatever. Spontaneity and shit.

Now, that would be a good motto.

+++

Driving was stupid stressful, but at least with quarantine, there were less people. He was also driving in a neighborhood area, so there were less pedestrians to potentially run over.

The downside of neighborhoods was that he had a much higher chance of accidentally hitting a child.

Mark noticed a squirrel on the side of the road, staring at him, and he drove a little slower.

He pulled into the driveway with minimal damage, and parked the car.

Mark rang the doorbell while the dog barked its head off.

Donghyuck opened the door, struggling to move the sixty pounds of Samoyed with his foot, while Cheddar jumped straight at Mark.

“Oh, come on, Cheddar, we went over this!”

Cheddar ignored Hyuck entirely and rubbed against Mark, leaving several long hairs stuck to his pants. Mark bent down and pet him.

“Hi, Cheddar. Miss me?”

Cheddar barked again.

Voices from the living room clashed together as Hyuck’s brothers realized that Mark had returned.

“MARK!”

“MARK’S HERE!”

“YOU GO GET HIM!”

“NO, YOU.”

“YES, MARK’S HERE, AND NO-YOU-ARE-NOT-ALLOWED-TO-PLAY-MINECRAFT-WITH-HIM.” Hyuck hollered back. 

“YOU SUCK.”

“KILLJOY.”

“Sorry about them, you know how they are.”

Mark took in the faint scent of garlic that constantly hung in the air (thanks to homemade kimchi) and laughed. “It’s fine. Wow, it seems so long since I’ve been here.”

“Like three weeks. You and Cheddar are both sentimental saps. Cheddar I can excuse, because, well, he’s a dog. You’re just dumb.”

“Ouch.” At least they were back to their insulter-and-insultee routine. Made it harder for Mark to trip over his feet and turn bright red.

“Yeah, come on, I have a whole spread of pirated movies.”

“Don’t you mean websites?”

“I mean, yeah, but it’s funnier to call it pirated because it makes me sound like an epic hacker.”

“I will never understand you,” Mark sighed.

“That’s kind of the point, you know.”

“So, what movie do you want to watch again?” 

Mark followed Donghyuck up the stairs. 

“Be careful, they spilled some old LEGO pieces on the stairs a couple of days ago. I think my mom got all of them, but you never know.”

Mark nodded through blurred vision, discreetly removing the flat two stud that he had stepped on.

“Righty-oh, it’s my room, nothing’s changed.”

The gaming system in the corner and its triple-monitor setup, the bed, the bookshelf with its trophies and playbills and albums. It was so familiar, yet so foreign.

“No, you definitely changed the Michael Jackson shrine.”

“Oh, yeah, my aunt gifted me a bobblehead.” Hyuck walked over and poked it. Michael Jackson nodded. “Anyways, we aren’t here to watch Plastic Michael Jackson, so get in your chair.”

“Okay.” Mark plopped into his chair, the fake leather cracked and tough from age. “So, we’re watching ‘Love, Simon’?”

Donghyuck sat down. “What about a Harry Potter marathon?”

“You think we can actually get them all done?”

“Time is just a societal concept.” Donghyuck spun around in his chair. “Also, I got a thing of jelly beans before quarantine, and I need to finish them or else I owe Jaemin twenty dollars.”

“Well, we’d better get started.”

+++

They were halfway through The Prisoner of Azkaban before Mrs. Lee called them down for dinner.

The jelly beans were on the floor, the worst options already gone. Mark reminded himself that it was for twenty dollars every time he choked down a cinnamon flavored bean, but it didn’t lessen the burn.

Mark groaned and peeled himself off his chair, and then shook Donghyuck awake.

“M’not hungry, go away,” he mumbled. He swatted once at Mark’s hand.

“How early were you up this morning?” Mark asked, shaking his head.

“Bold of you to assume I didn’t pull an all-nighter.”

“Come on, your mom will kill you.”

Hyuck grunted. “Let her murder me.”

“Fine, I’m scared of your mom and don’t want to face her alone.”

“After all she’s done for you!” Donghyuck gasped.

“Come on, I smell something cooking.”

Donghyuck fell out of his chair. “You know, that’s dinner. Food. Smelling things cooking.”

“Stop clowning me, Hyuck,” Mark said. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“Hurry up.”

+++

“Well, well, well,” Junhyuk said, splaying his fingers together. “If it isn’t the prodigal son.”

Jeongwoo hit him. “The ‘prodigal son’ was my line!”’

“Okay, but you do know that doesn’t make any sense, right?” Hyuck asked.

Junhyuk shrugged. “I thought prodigal son means they ran away and then returned! You know, like that bible story we learned in third grade!”

“But he didn’t really run away, did he?” Jeongwoo pointed out.

“He didn’t play Minecraft with us,” Junhyuk argued.

Mrs. Lee clucked her tongue. _“These boys are all silly. Mark, are you hungry?”_

Mark shook his head. _“Auntie, it’s okay. I’m not really hungry right now.”_ Ooh, f in the chat for his Korean. 

_“Well, you should eat. So skinny. What does your brother feed you?”_

_“Right, we’re eating?”_ Donghyuck asked, artfully dodging his mother’s question.

Mrs. Lee clicked her tongue and hit her son in the back of the head. “So disrespect. I teach you nothing, yeah?”

Mark laughed.

+++

Dinner was finished, and Mark felt like a balloon fit to burst.

Donghyuck put the jelly bean jar behind his albums, and explained, “If I see more food, I actually think I’d die.”

The movie continued playing. Mark was no longer invested in Harry’s quidditch game, looking instead at Hyuck and feeling like a lowkey loser.

Well, not a loser loser, but that weird half-thought of “geez i’m doing nothing with my life”.

And then the more he looked at Donghyuck, the creepier he felt, but the boy was just watching the movie and Mark concluded that he was simp.

Hyuck turned his head. “Are you even watching the movie?”

“No, not really.”

Donghyuck paused the movie. “If you have any epic declarations, speak now, or forever hold your peace.”

Mark’s brain took a vacation, and his face turned bright red.

“Well?” Hyuck looked at him expectantly.

“Stuttering is cliche, especially when socially awkward people are confessing to each other.”

“Socially awkward? Please, the rest of the world isn’t- wait. Confessing?” 

Donghyuck squinted at Mark. 

“You know, I never thought you would be the type of person to kill someone, but go off. Do you need a shovel?”

“Gah, no! What I meant to say- is that I like you.”

Hyuck shrugged. “I’ve been your best friend for years, you’d be hard-pressed to not like me.”

“Are you purposely misunderstanding me?!” Mark half-yelled. “I like you, romantically!”

Silence.

_Oh, shit, did Mrs. Lee hear him?_

“You?” Hyuck asked. “You.” He repeated, pointing to Mark. “Like.” He tilted his head. “Me?” He gestured to himself.

Mark felt like he was going to burst into flames. He ducked his head down. 

“...yes.”

Donghyuck snorted.

“You, Mark Lee, resident straight as a stick, perfect student and nerd, have a crush on me, the professional gay failure.” Donghyuck laughed harder. “This is a fucking Hallmark movie.”

“Oh my god, stop laughing, Donghyuck.”

Donghyuck wheezed and slapped Mark’s knee.

“You like me. Romantically.”

“Did I break you?”

Donghyuck wiped his eyes and broke into another fit of laughter.

“If you don’t answer, I’m going home.”

“No, no,” Donghyuck straightened up and turned the monitor off. “Thought we were going to have to at least get to the end of ‘Goblet of Fire’, but whatever. Come on.”

“Where?”

Donghyuck tilted his head thoughtfully, looked Mark dead in the face, and said, “It’s a surprise.”

He stood up.

“Come on, Lee. We have places to go.”

“Wait, what do you-”

“And yes, I like you too. Thought that was obvious.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *quietly*
> 
> please leave me kudos and comments i need validation from strangers


	6. Day6: Stan Them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, people, i know that this is day 5  
> but quarantine has effectively rendered time useless

Hyuck was driving. His headlights were on, and there were no other cars on the road, while “Shoot Out” played softly from the speakers.

”So, are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Mark asked.

”Shh. Distracted driving is a crime.”

”No, but seriously, where are we going?”

”I’m going to find a place to dig a hole and bury you.”

”That was a joke, right?”

Donghyuck ignored him. 

”Okay, but you aren’t going to actually kill me, right?”

Silence on the other end.

“It’s not too far off.” Donghyuck looked at Mark. “This is kind of what everything’s been building up to.”

”Does your mom know anything about this whole thing?”

Hyuck snorted. “Really? Of course she knows.”

”And she supports it?”

”Have you met my mother?”

Mark paused. “Yes, and I’m terrified of her.”

“Just look out a window or something.”

It’s dark outside. Mark wants to bring out the Taylor Swift ballads, but thinks Donghyuck would kill him with extreme prejudice. #gotmurderedbecauseofmyshittymusictaste

Hyuck changed lanes and turned right, continuing down the street.

”Are we going to the shops?”

”Shh. It’s a surprise.”

Mark nodded. “Very cool. Surprises.”

“Are you always this eloquent?”

”Usually more so. Unless you want me to start the ‘Are we there yets’.”

”So help me God, if you even attempt that, I will leave you on the curb.”

Mark laughed.

Donghyuck turned into the plaza and parked. “You want me to open the door like a chauffeur, or can you be a big boy and get out yourself?”

”This is bullying.”

”Alright, chauffeur it is!”

+++

They walked down the little street. Mark had one thought about that meme, "When you’re the third friend walking in the grass."

His hand swung limply at his side. He wiped his sweaty hand on his jeans. He cringed. He decided to, as Yuta would put it, “Grow a fucking pair, Mark Lee,” and took Hyuck’s hand, who looked surprised.

Then he smiled and Mark literally tripped over his foot.

The night had fallen, the streets were dark, the cobbled pathways between the shops strung with dim lights.

“Where are we going?”

“We’re going to get there soon, have a little patience. Marky.”

He wasn’t sure whether to blush or hit Hyuck.

They continued walking, past the closed cafes and vacant stores, until they were walking to the very end of the street, ending up on the railing keeping people from falling into the man-made pond below. A large sign read: No Trespassing. Complete with a little drowning person.

Obviously, that didn’t work for Hyuck, who immediately swung over the fence and landed with a crunch. Mark’s brain momentarily short circuited before he realized it was the sound of his sneakers hitting the pebbles.

Donghyuck held his hand out. His lips- ah yes, those things -were curled into a small smile, teasing Mark.

Mark took his hand and swung over without blinking.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this!” He whispered, sitting down on top of the rocks as Hyuck dragged him down. “Do you know how much trouble we could get in, do you always do this kind of thing-”

“Mark?”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

Mark shut up.

The water quietly washed into the pebbles, and as Mark grew accustomed to the darkness, the stars slowly started appearing.

Mark spoke up again. “You do know there are a thousand other places where we can stargaze without fear of legal repercussions.”

“Those places aren’t special enough.”

Mark turned to face Hyuck, barely making out his face in the darkness, the lights far off, making him feel hidden and exposed, just them in their little bubble, carved out by the universe.

He fell into a contemplative silence.

This time, he had everything to lose, but this was the only thing he believed mattered. Actually, everything was kind of melodramatic, because at the very least Donghyuck liked him back, so the worst that could happen was that he’d make a fool out of himself. Or like, slip and stab his eyeball out, but that hopefully wouldn't happen.

He put out his arm and awkwardly placed it around Hyuck, pulling him close.

Hyuck leaned into his shoulder.

“Happy birthday, Mark Lee.”

“It’s not my birthday.”

“That’s the point.”

The first firework went off as soon as Donghyuck finished his sentence, exploding against the night sky in a flare of sparks, skimming the surface of the water. The fireworks continued to explode, painting the sky with gold and red, showers of sparks held in suspense like magic before fizzling and falling.

Mark turned his head slightly when he felt Hyuck raise his head, golden skin shining amidst the light that was being projected above them. He could see his face. Mark felt like this was the kind of moment when Person A would kiss Person B breathless in a bout of impassioned frenzy, while the latest romantic single by John Mayer played in the background.

When Hyuck turned slightly and met his gaze, his entire brain screamed. It was just a continuous stream of _AHDKSKFKAKFKSLFHAJSHAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAJDJAJFISKIFAKFKKSFKKKDSKDKSKAKK-_

Mark’s train of thought was rudely interrupted when he felt Hyuck’s soft lips pressing into his.

He didn’t taste like fruit and the world didn’t stop moving or whatever bullshit people came up for first kisses. It was sweet, slow, and a first kiss that hinted at so many things to come.

When Hyuck pulled away, he said something very intelligent along the lines of “Hawhdhsd” before gasping for breath.

Hyuck laughed softly.

Mark could live off of nothing but that laugh.

+++

Once the fireworks finally stopped, and Mark thought he was coherent enough to form a sentence, he asked Hyuck a question.

“Why this week, of all weeks?”

“Day One until you fell in love with me.”

He unlocked his phone, and showed him a TikTok. Mark had almost forgotten about the app, but sure enough, Day 1 was them at church, Hyuck filming him singing and accepting to go for boba, him ordering, laughing. Day 2 was school, the “Do You Like Me?” note, the skeptical acceptance of Hyuck’s cookies, Hyuck keeping him from falling into the toilet. Day 3, the day where he ignored Hyuck, featuring the e-boy transformation. Day 4, preparations. When did Donghyuck get all of their friends together? Sheesh. And a new draft Hyuck was creating, Day 5.

“I’m guessing that’s the fireworks?”

“Yup.”

“How are you going to get the video?”

“I didn’t. I’m gonna give them a black screen for twenty seconds and then an audio clip of me screaming sToP cOmpArIng uS tO bTS mEmBErs.”

“I can’t believe I’m dating you.”

“You’re not.” Donghyuck grinned.

”Why not?”

”You didn’t kiss me back.”

Mark cleared his throat and almost choked.

”That wasn’t a joke.”

Mark rolled his eyes. Infuriating. Donghyuck was the worst.

He bumped noses with Hyuck before knocking their teeth together, then gave up, grabbed his face, but this kiss was just as soft and stupidly cuddly and intoxicating as the first one. Could a kiss even be cuddly? Eh. Mark could worry about that later.

For now, he was kissing a boy. Not just any boy, but the boy.

And he was kissing this boy and smiling into the kiss and having his million thoughts run through his head while he also forgot how to function because _holy heck it’s this kid that’s my first and second kiss?_

Hyuck broke away this time. "You officially suck."

“Speak for yourself.” Mark, for one, was very proud of himself.

“I meant you suck at kissing.”

“Moving on.” Mark bit back a scathing reply. (because he was more mature than that) “I need to go to college. I’m pretty sure college admissions won’t be impressed with the whole quarantine breaking.”

“Who needs college when you’ve got me? Who needs a degree when you’ve got love?”

“Wait, wait.” Mark hit the pause button and let his brain process the statement. “I love you?”

Hyuck shrugged. “You said it, not me. Anyways, wasn’t that the whole point of those TikToks?” Donghyuck placed his head on Mark’s shoulder. “So now, you’re stuck with me.”

Mark played with the tips of Hyuck’s hair and looked back out to the pond, the moonlight glinting off the tops of the water.

“I guess I am.”

“Don’t ruin the moment with your incessant need to be the last one talking, Mark.”

Mark whispered, “That’s still gay, you know.”

“You’re very gay, you know.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

The contented silence lasted for a solid five seconds before Mark asked the burning question.

“Where did you get fireworks?”

”I plead the fifth.”

+++

As with all good things, it came to an end far too soon. This time, it was destroyed by the typhoon of a human named Jaemin.

“oH MY GOD YOU GUYS ARE SO FUCKING CUTE MY HEART JUST EXPLODED-” Jaemin shrieked, sprinting towards them. “YOU CAN COME BACK INTO THE GROUP CHAT- IF Y’ALL DON’T ADOPT AND MAKE ME THE CHILD’S GODFATHER-“

“Jaemin, calm down!” Jeno pleaded. “Oh, yeah, congratulations.”

Donghyuck got up and pulled Mark with him, and they climbed over the fence again.

The rest of their friend group caught up.

“I got a basketball hoop stuck over my head for you guys,” Chenle said.

“I think it was worth it, Lele,” Jisung replied.

“You can’t pay me enough to do it again.”

Renjun scoffed. “Because you broke it. Well, now that you’re all coupled up, can we go home?”

Chenle twirled around in a circle with his arms apart, channeling his inner Maria from The Sound of Music. “Don’t forget about the pyromaniac behind this entire thing.”

“Pyromaniac?” Renjun repeated. “I think you mean pyrotechnic.”

“Pyromaniac, pyrotechnic, potato, potato.” Chenle rolled his eyes.

“They’re really not the same thing.”

Jaemin giggled. “Look, he’s coming over! What was his name again, Yangyang?”

Mark swore he saw Renjun fidget with his jacket sleeves.

“We got Markhyuck,” Jaemin tilted his head. “Now to find Renjun a boyfriend. Or an alien. Something. Aren’t you tired of constantly being alone?”

“Stop fucking shipping me with other people, I am fine being single,” Renjun said, tone somewhere between a grimace and a snarl.

Yangyang stopped in front of them. “Hi. Did I interrupt anything?”

Renjun nodded, then shook his head, then nodded. “Not anything important.”

Jaemin’s lenny face intensified.

Yangyang smiled.

Renjun flipped Jaemin off.

“Well, if we’ve gotten the happy couple together, and all’s well that ends well, why are we still here talking?” Jaemin asked.

Jisung shrugged. “Chenle still has mochi ice cream in his freezer.”

“Jisung Park, you traitor.”

“Mochi ice cream is a very anticlimactic ending to the epic love story of the ages,” Hyuck complained.

Mark flicked his forehead. “I think it sounds great.”

“I’ll go home, then,” Yangyang said, turning around.

“No, you should come with us!” Renjun exclaimed. “It’s an eighteen pack, and it doesn’t split up evenly with seven people.”

Silence.

“You know, it doesn’t spli-” Jeno cut off his sentence when Jaemin stomped on his foot. “Oh, yeah, Yangyang, you should totally come with us! Raid Chenle’s refrigerator. It’ll be fun.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. We need more sane people.” Jisung said, then raised his arms over his head as Chenle and Jaemin whirled on him.

Renjun laughed. Mark didn’t miss the way Yangyang smiled at that, how they held eye contact for a second too long, how the tension in the air seemed to be suffocating them.

“Sooooo, are we moving or not?” Hyuck asked.

Yangyang startled, looking an awful lot like deer in the headlights. “Uh, yeah. I have my car.”

“I drove here with the problem children, I can take them back.” Jeno was becoming more and more like a dad. Quarantine changed people.

“Mark and I can go to Chenle’s house,” Hyuck said, placing his hands on Mark’s shoulder and resting his head on them. The clinginess seemed to be back in full force, which, surprisingly, Mark found he didn’t mind.

“See you all in twenty,” Jeno finalized.

Chenle collapsed in a heap. "My poor mochi."

"Come on, Chenle."

"Don't even talk to me, jisungpwark."

“Oh, come on, Chenle, you can’t go with Mark. And stop calling them hyung, it’s _weird.”_

They dispersed.

Soon it was just them.

Mark and Donghyuck against the world, seven years old again. Scraped knees and Nerf guns, too-spicy tteokbokki and sneaking around during sleepovers, making each other laugh during Sunday services. Best friends. Worst enemies. Possibly boyfriends. (??)

Donghyuck bounced up and down. “Race you to the car.”

“Don’t make me laugh, you know I’ll beat you any day. Oh, wait, you’re running? Dude, that’s cheating!”

+++

Mark woke up.

The grandfather clock in front of him was too dark to read, so he checked his phone. 5:40 AM. A glance around the room showed Chenle and Jisung sprawled out on the couch, Jeno sleeping in the reclining chair, Jaemin matching him in the other one, Renjun on an air mattress, Yangyang bunched up in a sleeping bag, almost inside of the fireplace. Granted, it was a large fireplace, but still. Meanwhile, Donghyuck was nowhere.

Mark wriggled out from under the pile of blankets and winced as his bones cracked, pulling on a pair of slippers and heading outside.

“Why are you up so early?” Mark asked, joining Hyuck on the porch.

Donghyuck looked up, still swinging on the chair.

Back.

Forth.

Back.

Forth.

Back.

Forth.

“Couldn’t sleep. You know how it is.”

“Do you want to come back inside? It’s freezing.”

“No, just sit down.”

Mark laughed, then groaned. “God. My head hurts so much.”

Hyuck ignored him.

“Will you remember me when you go off to college in the big city?”

“Were you reading angst again? You’re still my best friend, Hyuck, that’s not changing.”

Donghyuck moved closer to Mark.

“You’re so clingy.”

“Get used to it, buddy.”

Mark looked out at the sun rising, peeking out from behind the trees.

“Beautiful.”

Hyuck yawned. “Talking about me again?”

“Don’t give yourself an ego, I was referring to the sun.”

“I am the sun, boy.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “Fine. You’re beautiful too."

“Aw, Mark. You’re such a lovely person, did you know that?”

“Go back to insulting me. Adoring Hyuck is an anomaly.”

“You’re such a loser, Mark, did you know that?” Donghyuck hit Mark over the head.

This felt much more familiar than anything. Mark probably would have slipped up and said something like “Oh my god I love you so much” if Donghyuck had continued being sweet. It was sad.

“Stop teasing, dumbass.”

“I thought I was the person who called you a dumbass.”

“I’ve adopted the nickname.” Donghyuck smiled. “It fits you better, anyways.”

“Aren’t you tired?”

“Yes. You kept snoring.”

“I do not snore.”

“I’m not in the mood to argue. Just record yourself sleeping.”

“You? Not in the mood to argue?” Mark gasped. “Call the FBI, he’s been replaced!”

Hyuck aimed a well-placed kick at Mark’s kneecap. Pain shot up his leg.

“Screw you,” Mark said.

“Later, Mark. It’s still technically illegal. I’m seventeen.”

“Not like that.”

“Why not?” Donghyuck asked, all innocent.

Mark wondered how easily he could dig a grave and die. “Because-“

”I’m joking. Don’t try and- oh my god.”

Mark cleared his throat and avoided eye contact.

”This’ll be a good story to tell at dinner parties in the future.”

”Stop.”

”Anyways, I came out to watch the sunrise.”

Mark lifted his eyes to the horizon, where the sun was already moving higher, the colors lovely and muted, the way all things were before the sun rose fully and fried his retinas.

”Rising. It’s risen. It’s a sun.”

Shaking his head, Donghyuck laughed. “You’re ridiculous, really.”

The sun was such a strange thing. Mark had always taken it for granted. It was a blinding sort of beauty, one that he hadn't let get too close in fear of hurting himself. Wait, was he talking in metaphors now?

Yeesh.

He was doing a lot of contemplating, lately.

Mark wasn't sure whether he liked it or not.

”Go back inside?” He asked.

Donghyuck nodded. “Come on.”

Mark tried to pull open the sliding door. It didn’t open. He tried again.

Hyuck tilted his head and looked at Mark.

”Don’t you tell me you locked us out.”

Mark mimed zipping his lips shut.

”I’m going to kill you.”

The frail sunrise moment of tranquility broken, Mark sprinted down the porch steps for dear life.

+++

(“Say, has anyone seen Mark?”

”It really took you two hours to realize he’s missing?”

”Eh. More pancakes for us.”

”You guys are seriously implying Donghyuck went and murdered Mark.”

”We’ll hold a beautiful memorial. Hendery can give a moving passage.”

”I’m _literally_ right here.”

”Would he want purple or pink flowers? What radiates Mark Lee energy?”

”Wilted daisies.”

”I was thinking more roses.”

”Roses are boring.”

”You guys are discussing the schematics of my funeral while I’m sitting at this table.”

”Sometimes, if I concentrate really hard, I can still hear his voice.”

”What did I do wrong in my past lives?”

”Wait, guys! I think I just heard him!"

"Really? Where?"

"...No, never mind. It was just the wind.” 

”Have a pancake, Mark.”

”Thanks, Jeno.”

”Jeno can talk to ghosts?!”)

+++

_Tell me, have you seen a sunset_

_Turn into a sunrise_

_Kiss right through the night?_

_‘Cause we should try that sometime._

_Hold you ‘til the morning_

_And if I said I’m falling_

_Would you just reply:_

_I know you are, but what am I?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okayyyyy and now that we're done here's a paragraph i wrote ages ago  
> \---  
> This fic has been in the works since the summer of 2019 and took one human person, (just joking i’m a bot) two lost pairs of earbuds, three broken chargers, four really long car rides, five overdue assignments, six crackhead (online) friends, seven maneuvers into Omegle (shoutout to that one girl that read hypegirl’s fic when i was spamming it to random people), eight attempts of angst, nine hours of research, ten more of giving up, eleven pipers piping, twelve days of Christmas and a stanning of A.C.E, ATEEZ, MCND, Monsta X, and The Boyz.  
> The longer it takes for me to write it, the more groups I add onto here.  
> This is sad.  
> *cough*  
> ANYWAYS I REALLY HOPED YOU LIKED IT LEAVE MY HOE ASS A COMMENT IF YOU WANNA  
> But seriously, I love you all. Including the people who just read this. I’m telling you right now this is gonna get like five reads and two of them are gonna be me forgetting to sign in.


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